iWM^' 


FROM 

D.    P.  MURPHY,  Jr. 

PRINTER  &  PUBLISHER, 

The  Chuich  Stationer, 

31  Barclay  St..  N.  Y. 

^lilllOltiililililiiilliMllllr; 


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ESSAYS, 

LECTURES,   ADDRESSES,   SERMONS, 


AND 


MISCELLANEOUS  AND   DESCRIPTIVE   PIECES. 


INCLUDING    A-    DISCUSSION    ON   EDUCATION. 


BY 


Rev.  JOHN   J.   TIGHE, 

OF   BOONTON,   N.  J. 


SACRED    HEART    PROTECTORY   PRINT, 
ARLINGTON,    N.   J. 


lOAN  STAC^. 


NIHIL    OBSTAT 


^  VENANTIUS   M.  WIGGER.   D.D., 

Episcopus  Novarcensis. 

►^VENANTIUS     M.     WiGGER,     D.D., 

Episcopus  Novarcensis. 

+  Michael   Augustinus   Corrigan,   D.D., 

Episcopus  Neo~Eboracensis. 


THE  REASON  FOR  PAROCHIAL  SCHOOLS. 

*'  Much  is  said  in  our  days  of  social  assimilation  with  those  who  dwell  in  this 
great  country.  Assimilation  must  be  spontaneous ,  gradual,  for  the  common  good 
of  all  parts  composing  the  social  body.  It  must  be  neither  violent  nor  opposed.  You 
must  distinguish  well  the  civil  from  the  religious  assimilation  ;  because,  if  in  the 
civil  assimilation  we  must  go  to  others,  in  the  religious  one  we  must  wait  for  others- 
to  come  to  us.  In  regard  to  religious  sentiment  and  matters  of  faith,  and  in  regard 
to  truly  Catholic  morals  and  every  observance  of  the  Catholic  religion,  we  must  hold 
firm.     It  is  better  to  be  well  educated  to  an  honest  life  than  to  be  simply  instructed. 

"  Nay,  for  us  Catholics,  education,  in  a  moral  sense,  that  is  not  Catholic,  is  im- 
possible. This  is  the  supreme  reason  for  parochial  schools,  namely,  of  those  schools 
of  ours  which,  besides  teaching  all  that  is  useful  to  the  domestic  and  civil  interest ^ 
perfect  it  by  means  of  moral  and  religious  education.  Schools  without  any  religion 
cannot  be  approved  of,  because  harmful  to  the  individual,  the  family,  and  the  State, 
Hence  it  is  that  Catholics  respect  the  civil  institutions,  have  their  own  rights  and 
their  own  schools,  and  deserve  that  public  opinion  should  be  favorable  to  them,  and 
justly  hope  for  the  co-operation  of  all  honest  people.  The  loyalty  of  men  and  their 
sense  of  justice,  we  have  reason  to  hope,  will  not  allow  them  to  consider  such 
schools  as  anti-American,  as  they  are  in  full  accord  with  all  which  a  free  and  civil 
State  can  demand.'" — Most  Rev.  Francis  Satolli,  in  his  first  address  in  the 
English  tongue,  at  the  Church  of  St.  Mary  Magdalen  de  Pazzi,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 
Compare  with  pages  249  and  250  of  this  book. 


Copyright,  1893,  by 
JOHN    J.    TIGHE. 


TO   THE 

CATHOLIC   LAITY, 


VARIOUS    PARISHES    WHEREIN    I    HAVE    PERFORMED    EITHER 
OCCASIONAL    OR    REGULAR    DUTIES, 

IN   TOKEN   OF   KINDNESS   RECEIVED; 

AND   TO   THE 

RKV:    XHADOEUS     HOGAN, 

OF    TRENTON,    N.    J., 
IN   MEMORY   OF  ANCIENT   FRIENDSHIP. 

ARE,    WITH    PRESUMED    PERMISSION,    INSCRIBED. 


016 


ERRATA. 

Page    24,  line    8,  for  "  solidity  "  read  "  stolidity." 

"       25,  "  25,  **    "  speculating "  read  "  peculating." 

"       45,  "  12,  "    "  commands"  read  "commends." 

45,  "  32,  "   "  deci-ees  "  read  "  decries." 

63,  "  23,  "   "  beautiful "  read  "  bountiful." 

"       88,  "  25,  "   "  congenial  "  read  "  congenital." 

"     111,  "  38,  "   "the"  read  "their." 

"     193,  "  24,  "   "impai-ts  "read  "imports." 

"     329,  "  25,  "   "  unctuated  "  read  "  uncreated." 

"     338,  *'  5,  "   "  sun-dried  "  read  "  sin-dried." 

"     350,  "  7,  "   "  Well-greased "  read  "  Well-greaved." 

"     368,  "  32,  «   "  banner-breathing "  read  "  banners  breath- 
ing." 

"     410,  «  15,  "   "fearless"  read  "peerless." 

"     429,  "  7,  "   "  BoabdiUa  "  read  "  Bobadilla." 


PREFACE 


Of  the  fact  that  "  of  making  many  books  there  is  no  end  "  we  are 
fully  conscious.  Neither  do  we  fondly  seek  to  persuade  ourselves 
that  the  present  production  is  just  the  desideratum  to  fill  "  a  long- 
felt  want."  Honored  usage  has  prescribed  that  a  book-maker 
furnish  some  apology  for  the  innocuous  vanity  of  appearing  in  print. 
When  the  enraptured  eye  of  Dickens  first  rested  on  his  fascinating 
effusions  arrayed  in  the  decoration  of  type,  he  attempted  the  novel 
performance  of  reading  them,  while  standing  upon  his  head;  which 
freak  Edmund  Burke  would  doubtless  define  as  an  effort  "  to  live 
in  an  inverted  order."  "We  shall,  probably,  never  be  the  sport  of 
such  strange  "  ups  and  downs." 

The  palmary  reason  for  this  book,  perhaps,  is  that  many  who  heard 
discussed  some  of  the  topics  herein  treated,  especially  that  of  Educa- 
tion, expressed  the  desire,  with  great  sincerity  and  cordiality,  as  it 
appeared  to  us,  to  have  them  recorded  in  more  permanent  form. 
This  was,  possibly,  an  unwarranted  conceit,  which  the  writer,  with 
due  diffidence,  now  undei-takes  to  gratify.  Whether  others,  more 
disinterested,  will  ratify  the  favorable  and  indulgent  judgment  of 
friends  and  well-wishers,  may  be  early,  but  we  hope  not  painfully, 
made'  manifest.  ConcuiTent  endorsement  would,  it  is  puerile  to 
conceal,  carry  satisfaction  both  to  our  friends  and  to  us;  but  even 
the  reversal  of  opinions  which,  in  all  likelihood,  had  taken  on  the 
rose-colored  tint  of  partiality,  will  be  met  with  equanimity  of  mind 
and  an  obliged  sense  of  con-ection.  We  believe,  however,  with  an- 
other, that  affected  haughtiness  and  affected  humility  are  alike  des- 
picable in  a  preface,  and  hence  we  trust  not  to  be  convicted  of 
overweening  pretension  in  considering  that  some  few,  at  least,  of 
these  firstlings  of  our  creation  will  repay  the  reader's  examination. 


viii  PREFACE. 

If  the  high-priests  of  literature  judge  otherwise,  let  it  be  so.  They 
know  best.  Of  the  blemishes  that  bristle  throughout  the  composi- 
tion, it  may  be  some  extenuation  to  say,  that,  besides  being  written 
in  the  interludes  of  engrossing  duties,  the  first  draught  of  each  pro- 
duction is,  in  nearly  every  case,  the  one  now  printed. 

With  reference  to  the  essay  on  Education,  it  is  to  be  remarked 
that  it  was  written,  at  least  as  to  substance,  some  time  before  the 
"  School  Question  "  had  passed  into  the  field  of  public  controversy. 
As  that  "  question  "  assumed  various  phases,  new  considerations,  or 
criticisms,  were  subjoined.  A  brief  review  of  the  present  status  of 
the  subject,  as  the  writer  sees  it,  was  subsequently  added.  It  was 
intended  that  these  pages  should  have  long  since  seen  the  light,  but 
pressure  of  circumstances  prevented  the  consummation  of  our  pur- 
pose, now  only  reaHzed  through  the  intervention  and  friendly  offices 
of  the  publisher. 

The  few  sermons,  submitted  with  much  misgiving,  are  inserted  as 
appellants  for  approval.  If,  like  the  bird  from  the  ark,  they  return 
with  the  green  leaf  of  promise,  they  shall  be  followed,  by  the  close 
of  the  current  year,  by  their  congeners;  if  they  bring  no  message- 
word  of  welcome,  then  shall  the  rest  continue  to  repose  where  they 
now  peacefully  lie,  in  the  literary  lumber-room  of  the  writer.  The 
selections  were  made  more  for  local  interest  than  for  intrinsic  merit. 

The  contents  of  the  book  are  very  heterogeneous  in  character.  It 
is  so  designed  that  they  may  serve  for  desultory  and  occasional  read- 
ing. The  miscellaneous  nature  of  the  subjects  precluded  even  the 
pretence  to  unity  or  concatenation. 

If  the  book  shall  serve  any  worthy  cause,  kindle  any  lofty  aim, 
inspire  any  new  hope,  help  any  groping  mind,  soothe  any  troubled 
soul,  or  even  beguile  any  weary  hour,  the  writer  will  not  have  built 
in  vain.  In  this  fond  expectation  he  deferentially  submits  it  to  the 
critic's  care,  to  whom  he  says,  in  the  words  of  an  inspired  penman, 

"He  that  judgeth  let  him  write  a  book." 
BooNTON,  N.  J.,  April  1st,  1893. 


CONTENTS 


ESSAYS. 
-The  Crusades,  and  their  Effects  on  Modern  Civilization, 


I- 

n. — The  Indian  Question, 

HI. — Prehistoric  America — Indians  and  Aztecs, 

rV. MORMONISM   AND    THE    GoVERNTlENT, 

V. — Politics  and  Parties,  .... 

VI. — Sabbatarianism  and  Amusements, 
Vn. — Progress  and  the  Catholic  Church, 
Vm. — How  Famous  Men  Died,       .... 
IX. — Education — The  State  vs.  The  Individual, 
X, — A  EoMAN  Catholic  on  the  School  Question, 
XI. — Education  in  New  Jersey — A  Controversy, 
Xn. — Friendship,  .... 

Xm. — Recollections  of  College  Life, 
XIV. — Filial  Affection, 
XV. — Robert  Elsmere, 
XVI. — George  Bancroft's  New  History, 
XVn. — Historical  Se:etch  of  St.  Patrick, 


23 

29 

35 

41 

46 

49 

119 

125 

254 

265 

272 

295 

299 

305 

311 

315 


LECTURES. 

I. — The  Harmony  of  Religion, 325 

n. — The  Church — A  Kingdom  of  Peace  and  a  Kingdom  of 

War, 337 

m. — Ireland — Past  and  Present, 359 

rV. — Christian  Charity, 396 


CONTENTS. 

V. — Life  and  Character  of  Columbus,        ....  409 
VI. — Mission  and  Progress  of  the  Church   in  the    United 

States, 431 

Vn.— The  Song  of  Salvation, 465 

ADDEESSES. 

I. — Address  to  Young  Men, 491 

n. — Address  at   the  Dedication  of  Chapel  and  Academy,  499 

HI. — Address  to  Young  Ladies  on  Graduation  Day,     .         .  504 
IV. — Address  at  Flag-Eaising,  July  4,  1892,         .         .         .512 

V. — Catholic  Education,      . 520 

VI. — Laying  of  the  Corner-Stone  of  the    Eefuge    of   the 

Sisters  of  Peace, 528 


desceiptive  and  miscellaneous. 

I. — Storm  in  the  Eockies — Mountain  of  the  Holy  Cross,  539 

II. — Battle  of  the  In\'isible  Powers,  ....  542 

in. — An  Excursion  to  the  West, 550 

IV. — Sketch  of  Eev.  J.  J.  Curran,      .  ....  580 

V. — Story  of  the  Sea,         .......  585 

VI.— Sketch  of  Eev.  M.  J.  Tallon,        .         .         .         .         .  590 


seemons. 


I. — The  Eternal  Priesthood  of  Jesus  Christ,  .         .  597 

n.— Mortal  Sin, 618 

m. — The  Priesthood, 632 

IV. — Faith  as  the  Falchion  in  the  Spiritual  Struggle,      .  643 

v.— Lying, 652 

VI. — "The  Teacher  of  the  Nations,"  ....  663 

VII. — Month's  Mind  of  the  Eev.  James  H.  Corrigan,  .  673 

Vin.— The  Blessed  Eucharist,         ......  6S2 

IX.  — St.  Francis  of  Assisi, 693 

X.— Mary,  Our  Mother, 702 

XI. — First  Sunday  of  Lent, 709 


ESSAYS 


THE  CRUSADES  AND  THEIR  EFFECT  OH^  MODERN 
CIVILIZATION. 

The  salient  history  of  mankind  is  a  history  of  heroes.  The  blind 
bard  of  Smyrna  chanted  in  undying  song  the  glories  of  the  Greeks  ; 
and  until  the  annals  of  the  ages  shall  have  become  a  shrivelled 
scroll,  the  recollection  of  Eoman  valor  will  Hve  in  the  memory  of 
man.  As  long  as  the  human  soul  has  the  power  to  admire,  the 
sublime  and  heroic  will  call  forth  its  admii-ation. 

We  extol  the  doers  no  less  than  we  do  their  deeds.  The  soldier 
who  in  strenuous  struggle  has  saved  his  native  soil,  is  hailed  with 
loud  acclaim,  and  his  brow  begii-t  with  laurels  ;  and  the  sage  who 
breasts  financial  storm  and  guides  the  ship  of  state  beyond  the  mael- 
strom of  national  discredit,  is  honored  with  his  countrymen's  un- 
stinted gratitude. 

What,  now,  is  the  loadstone  that  attracts  our  admiration  for  such 
men  ?  What  talismanic  touch  is  that  which  thrills  the  soul  at  the  re- 
cital of  grand  exploits  ?  Not  all  that  is  accounted  great  can  lay  claim 
to  our  heartfelt  admiration.  The  mind's  work  is  praised,  not  so  much 
when  it  gleams  with  the  fascinating  fire  of  genius,  as  when  it  beto- 
kens devotion  to  duty.  The  man  who  meets  injustice  with  the  eagle 
eye  of  scorn,  and  who,  unyielding  as  the  monarch  of  the  primeval 
forest,  assumes  his  station  on  the  ancient  battle-line  of  right  and 
wrong,  is  truly  marked  a  hero.  In  high  purpose  and  strength  of 
soul,  then,  is  to  be  sought  the  source  of  our  admiration  for  all  that 
is  great  in  human  action.  Truth  and  goodness  are  the  qualities  of 
genuine  heroism,  and  these  have  had  no  nobler  exemplification  than 
in  the  spirit  of  Christian  Chivalry. 

Here,  indeed,  was  an  ideal  of  manhood  that  embraced  in  one  con- 
ception the  noblest  traits  of  human  character  :  justice  and  courtesy  ; 


2 

modesty  and  genius;  sincerity  and  grace;  compassion  and  fidelity  ; — 
and  all  brightened  with  generous  sentiments,  and  lofty  imaginations, 
and  crowned  with  invincible  valor  and  heroic  faith.  Similar  charac- 
teristics have  been  elsewhere  found,  but,  as  compared  to  the  fair 
features  of  Chivalry,  they  are  but  semblances  devoid  of  substance 
that  wither  at  a  scrutiny. 

Courage  was  not  first  born  when  the  fire  of  Chivalry  began  to  glow. 
What  could  be  more  fearless  than  the  struggle  of  the  three  hundred 
at  Thermopylae  against  a  countless  host?  And  yet  the  valor  of 
pagan  days  was  only  the  energy  of  desperation.  Keligious  fervor 
flamed  in  many  a  soul  before  the  medieval  period.  Look  at  the 
crouching  reverence  of  the  old  Norsemen  that  bowed  before  the  fire- 
flame  as  a  deadly  demon.  Their  poets  worshipped  the  lightning  as 
a  God  ;  while  the  bolt  that  cleft  the  cloud  was  the  all-rending  ham- 
mer hurled  from  heaven  to  smite  the  sons  of  earth.  And  yet  these 
men  were  valorous  ;  but  theirs  was  a  valor  that  deemed  it  crime 
not  to  die  in  battle.  Behold  the  enthusiasm  of  Oriental  fancy  that 
saw  in  Mahomet,  a  prophet  inspired  of  God,  and  drew  millions  of 
men  under  Arabian  suns,  and  across  Arabian  deserts,  to  worship  in 
the  mosques  of  Mecca  at  the  bidding  of  an  impostor,  or,  at  least,  a 
day-dreamer.  Such  was  the  ardor  of  fanaticism  ;  and  with  such  a 
fervor.  Christian  Chivalry  has  no  affiliation.  No  ;  Christian  Chivahry 
is  inseparable  from  Christian  Charity  ;  they  are  twin  flowers  on  the 
stem  of  faith. 

When,  hundreds  of  years  ago,  the  light  of  Christianity  rent  the 
gloom  that  enwrapt  the  nations,  the  spirit  of  Chiistian  Chivalry  be- 
gan to  live.  For  years  it  had  to  lie  latent  through  peace  and  perse- 
cution, until  in  God's  good  time  the  occasion  came  that  was  to  em- 
body it  in  an  all-powerful  institution.  That  occasion  was  the  downfall 
of  the  Roman  Empire. 

When  the  proud  Roman  eagles,  pierced  by  the  deadly  darts  of 
Gothic  arrows,  had  fallen  lifeless  to  the  earth,  the  profession  of  arms 
became  the  pastime  of  nations.  The  sceptre  fell  shattered  from  the 
puerile  grasp  of  Augustulus,  but  only  that  the  mace  might  be  borne 
by  a  race  of  warriors.  When  men  ruled  who  had  adored  Odin,  the 
god  of  tiger  strife,  and  who  had  sighed  for  the  putative  paradise 
where  the  braves  sij^ped  hydromel  from  the  skulls  of  foes,  it  is  no 
marvel  that  Europe  was  overspread  with  forests  of  long  spears  and 


3 

lances.  When  Attila  had  scourged  fair  Italy,  and  Radagasius  rav- 
aged Gaul,  it  was  soon  in  no  man's  power  to  forbear  a  blow  in  self- 
defence.     War  had  unchained  the  dragon  of  destruction. 

In  this  juncture,  the  Church  rallied  to  the  rescue  of  the  menaced 
nations,  and  with  heaven-given  resources  fulfilled  the  requirements 
of  the  age.  She  was  the  noble  knight  who  slew  the  hydra-headed 
monster.  Here  was  the  advent  of  Christian  Chivalry.  It  was  the 
spontaneous  outcome  of  Christian  Charity  directed  to  the  exigencies 
of  the  period.  In  her  old  capacity  of  pacificator,  the  Church  inter- 
posed to  teach  the  unlettered  Northmen  that  real  valor  is  moral  ex- 
cellence and  the  valor  of  piety  and  benevolence,  not  of  stoicism,  and 
want  of  feeling.  Some  men  are  brave  for  vainglory,  and  some  for 
the  love  of  lucre.  The  fury  of  instinct  will  impel  one  man  to  face 
peiil ;  and  the  courage  that  is  the  growth  of  ignorance,  will  make 
another  crave  danger  as  a  boon.  The  Christian  warrior,  however, 
was  a  man  of  reason,  of  resolution  and  self-sacrifice.  He  learned  to 
temper  victory  with  tenderness,  and,  arming  for  battle  only  that 
peace  might  prevail,  he  fought  not  as  a  hireling  for  gain,  but  for  the 
immortaUty  that  belongs  to  righteous  action.  Such  was  the  ideal 
that  enamored  the  heart  of  the  savage,  enraptured  his  soul,  and 
made  him  thenceforth  feel  that  heroism  is  found,  not  only  in  the 
fiery  furnace  of  war,  but  more  nobly  in  the  paths  of  peace.  Thus 
did  the  Church  meet  the  needs  of  trpng  time. 

Behold,  in  the  transformation  of  the  barbarian,  the  matchless 
power  of  Christian  faith  and  Christian  Charity.  The  wild  son  of  the 
northern  wilderness  is  now  the  choicest  soldier  of  Chivalry, — "  the 
elements  so  mixed  in  him  that  nature  might  stand  up  and  say  to  all 
the  world,  *This  was  a  man.'  "  One  element  was  hke  the  lightning 
that  leaps  from  the  storm-cloud,  and  darting  downward  through 
the  gleaming  tempest,  blasts  whatever  bears  its  blow  ;  for  even  so, 
did  the  savages,  out-pouring  from  the  rugged  hills,  blast  all  Europe  : 
another  element  was  as  the  gentle  warmth  of  the  sun  in  spring-time, 
that  quickens  the  sluggish  pulsations  of  Nature,  dresses  the  forest  in 
its  foliage,  and  makes  the  wilderness  blossom  as  the  rose  ;  for  such 
was  the  action  of  the  faith  on  the  lethargic  Northman.  Can  it,  then, 
be  said  that  Europe  owes  to  Gothic  customs  her  spirit  of  Chivalry 
rather  than  to  the  power  that  rendered  those  customs  conformable 
to  the  genias  of  Christianity  ? 


4 

"Wiseacres  have  claimed  that  that  noble  spirit  had  its  origin  in  the 
bosom  of  feudalism,  but  feudalism  had  only  the  germ  of  barbarism. 
No  ;  Chivalry  came  from  the  action  of  the  Chui-ch  in  reforming  the 
war-like  classes,  and  the  war-like  classes  were  the  feudal.  It  was 
precisely  designed  as  a  check  on  the  rapacity  of  the  feudal  lords, 
and,  contrary  to  a  wide  belief,  it  was  never  wholly  aristocratic.  The 
untitled  classes  formed  its  recruits  no  less  than  did  the  nobility.  For 
this  reason  it  grew  to  be  a  powerful  institution,  whose  aim  was  to 
resist  oppression  as  well  as  to  maintain  concord.  If  to-day  the 
soldiers  of  chivalry  drew  the  long  lance  against  a  foe,  to-morrow  they 
walked  in  meek  procession  beneath  banners  of  penitence  and  peace. 
Finally,  the  exigency  came  to  test  their  valor  and  their  worth.  All 
Christendom  called  upon  them  to  deliver  from  desecration  the 
sepulchre  of  the  world's  Redeemer.  Mark,  now,  the  response  in  the 
resistless  motion  of  the  great  army  of  Christian  warriors,  as  the 
ecstatic  watchword  of  "God  wills  it,"  is  echoed  afar  on  every  wind. 
On  they  march,  by  long  and  weary  stages,  to  far-famed  Palestine. 
Look  at  the  steel-clad  Knights,  their  glancing  morions,  and  the  long 
lines  of  glittering  spears  as  they  reflect  the  rays  of  the  noon-day  sun. 
They  enter  the  land  of  the  olive  and  the  palm-tree  where  the  air  is 
filled  with  a  balm-like  fragrance  far  around.  With  prayerful  step 
they  approach  the  city  of  a  once  chosen  people,  and  looking  up  at  its 
towering  battlements  and  pointed  pinnacles,  they  seem  to  behold  in 
the  dim  distance  the  golden  gates  of  the  heavenly  Jerusalem.  And 
now  the  Crescent  and  the  Cross  crash  in  deadly  conflict.  The 
scimiter  of  the  Saracen  swings  aloft,  but  to  be  dashed  to  earth.  The 
Mussulman  and  his  myrmidons  are  smitten  with  dismay,  and 
Christian  valor  has  won  the  land  of  Palestine^ 

The  Crusades  were  the  acme  and  culmination  of  Chivalry  as  an 
organic  institution,  but  the  spirit  by  which  they  were  inspired  is 
more  enduring  than  that  which  gives  "the  strength  whereby  the 
patriot  girds  himself  to  die;  the  unconquerable  power  which  fills  the 
freeman  battling  on  his  hills." 

Despite  the  carping  criticism  of  those  who,  like  Chesterfield,  look 
upon  the  Crusades  as  a  hairbrained  scheme,  it  is  undeniable  that 
they  were  fruitful  in  grand  results.  The  age  needed  lofty  thoughts 
and  deeds  of  heroism,  and  the  Crusades  gave  scope  to  all  the  energies 
of  generous  knighthood.     A  mighty  tempest  of  elevating  emotions 


swept  over  the  face  of  Europe,  and  recalled  men  from  the  grossness  of 
sensuality  to  a  life  of  piety  and  virtue.  Every  lofty  ideal  helps  to 
lift  up  humanity.  And  what  nobler  ideal  could  be  presented  to  the 
mind  of  man  than  that  embodied  in  the  cause  of  the  Crusades.  The 
Crusades  were  not  merely  a  contest  for  supremacy  between  the  East 
and  the  West ;  but  were  essentially  and  primarily  an  exhibition  of 
Christian  valor  and  heroism  in  defence  of  the  most  cherished,  most 
sacred  and  most  august  memories  and  sentiments  that  find  lodgment 
in  the  human  heart,  the  sentiment  of  religion  and  the  idea  of  God. 

In  the  spirit  of  calm  and  philosophical  inquiry  let  us  look  into  the 
character,  and  sift  the  underlying  motives  of  that  great  movement  of 
the  twelfth  century,  known  to  history  as  the  Crusades.  Viewed  in  a 
broad  and  comprehensive  light  the  Crusades  are  the  pivotal  point 
upon  which  all  modern  history  turns,  and  may  justly  be  regarded  as 
the  dividing  line  between  the  present  civiUzations  of  the  world  and 
those  which  rose  and  flourished  under  the  influence  of  Oriental  skies 
or  beneath  the  cold  but  classic  shades  of  Graeco-Koman  antiquity. 

In  the  study  of  history  it  is  an  idle  and  puerile  task  to  estimate 
great  and  potent  movements,  profound  in  their  origin,  and  wide- 
reaching  in  their  consequences,  in  detached  and  isolated  sections,  or 
from  some  narrowed  and  solitary  reasoning,  looking  only  at  some 
brilliant  event  that  catches  the  fancy,  or  some  pernicious  tendency  or 
result  repellant  to  the  judgment,  without  duly  considering  the  tout- 
ensemble  of  the  passage  of  events,  following  the  stream  in  all  its 
windings,  accounting  for  the  rationale  of  every  fact,  and  from  this 
broad  and  elevated  standpoint,  pronouncing  judgment  upon  the 
whole.  Such  judgment  alone  deserves  a  place  in  enlightened  and 
impartial  history.  It  has  been  the  misfortune  of  the  middle  ages  to 
be  criticised  by  less  just  and  generous  standards. 

The  dream  of  medieval  kings  and  Pontiffs,  from  the  days  of  Charle- 
magne, and  from  the  time  of  Gregory  the  Great,  was  the  federation 
of  the  world  under  the  banners  of  the  Cross.  The  Crusades  were  but 
the  development  and  embodiment  of  this  sublime  idea.  After  all, 
ideas  govern  the  world.  Ideas  alone  are  intelligible,  for  by  ideas  all 
things  are  made  intelligible.  Ideas  alone  are  worth  estimation  in 
studying  the  progress  of  humanity  through  the  great  movements 
along  the  stream  of  time.  The  leading  idea  of  the  Crusades  was  the 
fusion  of  all  the  parts  of  Christendom  under  one  general  head.     It 


6 

was  the  blending  of  all  the  Catholic  nations  in  one  common  brother- 
hood of  faith. 

It  was  simply  an  outward  though  violent  expression  of  that  princi- 
ple of  unity  which  is  inseparable  from  the  character  of  the  Catholic 
Church  of  Christ. 

In  every  age  of  Christianity  new  exigencies  arise,  and  with  that 
divine  fecundity  with  which  she  is  blessed,  the  Church  always  devises 
new  means  to  meet  them.  Before  the  onward  march  of  her  impregna- 
ble unity  every  obstacle  must  go  down,  and  whether  Gothic  violence 
or  Islamitic  madness  blocked  the  way,  neither  could  oppose  an 
effectual  barrier  to  the  dominion  of  an  institution  to  which  God  had 
given  the  government  of  the  world.  But  when  the  Moslem  drew  the 
scimiter,  the  Christian  drew  the  sword,  but  drew  it  in  self-defence. 
Hence  Popes  themselves  preached  Crusades,  and  hence  arose  those 
renowned  military  orders  to  defend  the  rights  and  preserve  the  lands 
which  valorous  Christians  wrested  from  the  followers  of  Allah  and 
his  prophet. 

Let  it  be  remembered,  the  question  was  not  merely  which  religion 
should  claim  the  sovereignty  of  the  Saviour's  tomb  ;  but  it  was, 
which  form  of  worship  and  which  civilization  should  hold  the  sover- 
eignty of  the  world,  which  in  a  Christian  sense  was  symbolized  by 
the  tomb  of  the  Redeemer. 

Splenetic  calumniators  of  the  Christian  name,  like  the  pompous 
historian  of  the  "  Decline  and  Fall  of  Rome,"  have,  we  know,  bitterly 
assailed  the  justice  of  the  Crusades,  and,  with  great  dexterity  of 
dialectics,  have  sought  to  establish  the  position  that  the  Holy  Wars 
were  as  unnecessary  as  they  were  calamitous ;  and  yet,  even  suc'h 
manifestly  prejudiced  critics  as  he,  are  constrained  to  confess  that 
the  Crusaders  themselves  were  entirely  persuaded  of  the  lawfulness 
and  the  merits  of  their  heroic  and  hazardous  undertaking. 

The  formidable  followers  of  Islam  had,  in  the  short  space  of  a 
quarter  of  a  century,  raised  the  crescent  all  over  the  East,  from  the 
Euphrates  and  beyond,  "Westward  to  the  Euxine  Sea;  the  Greek  em- 
pire tottered  on  the  brink  of  destruction;  their  victorious  arms  bore 
down  all  to  the  very  gates  of  Constantinople;  the  Christian  Churches 
in  the  East  were  groaning  under  their  iron-heeled  oppression;  under 
a  frenzied  thirst  for  conquest  and  a  fanatical  feeling  for  propagand- 
ism,  they  vehemently  pushed  their  claim  of  universal  empire;  in  fine, 


the  whole  of  Western  Europe  was  threatened  with  destruction,  and 
the  inhabitants  profoundly  agitated  with  real  and  urgent  apprehen- 
sions of  the  loss  of  property,  liberty,  and  religion. 

Nor  was  this  the  only  justification  for  the  followers  of  the  Prince 
of  Peace  to  unsheathe  the  sword. 

In  addition  to  a  lively  and  generous  feeling  of  sympathy  towards 
their  oppressed  and  persecuted  brethren  in  the  distant  land  of  Pales- 
tine, they  religiously  considered  that  they  had  an  indefeasible  right 
to  the  sacred  land  which  had  been  sealed  and  sanctified  by  the  blood 
of  their  suffering  Saviour;  and  by  consequence  it  appeared  to  be  not 
only  their  right,  but  their  duty,  to  deliver  the  holy  sepulchre  from  the 
profanations,  and  their  pilgrims  from  the  persecution  of  Moslem  vio- 
lence and  fanaticism.  The  antagonism  between  the  Crescent  and  the 
Cross  was  irrepressible  and  irreconcilable  ;  it  could  be  quenched  by 
blood  alone;  and  so  nice  was  the  equivalence  of  the  two  powers,  that 
it  could  be  settled  only  by  a  deadly  and  protracted  struggle. 

Such  was  the  inevitable  condition  which  confronted  the  Catholic 
nations  of  Europe  when  Peter  the  Hermit,  a  native  of  Amiens,  in 
Picardy,  returned  from  a  pilgrimage  to  Palestine,  to  fire  all  men  with 
the  flame  of  enthusiasm  burning  in  a  breast  incensed  with  indigna- 
tion at  the  indignities  suffered  by  himself,  and  oppressed  with  shame 
at  the  wrongs  inflicted  on  his  co-religionists  on  the  very  site  where 
the  Redeemer  of  the  world  shed  His  blood  for  the  peace  and  unity, 
no  less  than  for  the  salvation  of  the  human  race.  The  vast  scheme 
of  union  between  the  East  and  the  West  had  been  comprehended  in 
the  plans  of  Gregory  the  Great,  and  even  contemplated  in  the  visions 
of  some  before  his  day  ;  but  to  Urban  the  Second  belongs  the  im- 
mortal glory  of  attempting  the  execution  of  the  work  embraced  in 
the  designs  of  his  predecessors.  In  the  pubHc  marts  of  Clermont  he 
ascended  the  rostrum,  and  by  the  energy  of  his  eloquence  and  the 
cogency  of  his  argument,  he  moved  the  mighty  multitudes  to  the 
acme  of  an  enthusiasm  unexampled  in  the  annals  of  history,  as  they 
cried  aloud  with  tears  of  joy  upon  their  cheeks,  "God  wills  it." 
"  Yes,"  answered  the  venerable  Pontiff,  his  voice  husky  with  emotion, 
and  his  eyes  kindling  with  the  ardor  of  his  own  enthusiasm,  "  Yes, 
God  wills  it,  and  let  this  memorable  word  be  your  battle-cry.  Take 
this  cross,  the  symbol  of  your  salvation,  and  wear  it  upon  your 
breasts  as  the  pledge  of  your  irrevocable  engagement  to  your  holy 


8 

cause."  One  question,  and  one  only,  presented  itself  to  the  minds  of 
all :  should  Mahomet  be  permitted  to  ravage  the  face  of  Europe,  or 
should  he  be  encountered  on  the  shores  of  Asia  and  the  soil  of  the 
Western  world  be  preserved  from  the  contamination  of  his  unconse- 
crated  footsteps?  This  was  the  problem  that  engaged  every  mind 
with  eagerness,  and  the  Crusades  were  the  response  and  the  solution. 
But  how  was  it  to  be  accomplished  ?  What  seemingly  insurmounta- 
ble obstacles  blocked  the  path  and  choked  every  field  of  human  en- 
deavor ?  Civil  dissensions  rent  the  Frankish  and  German  Empires  ; 
most  of  the  principalities  of  Southern  Europe  were  debilitated  by 
foreign  invasions  and  domestic  strife;  states  and  territories  were  dis- 
membered and  disunited,  and  even  on  the  hitherto  quiet  field  of  re- 
ligion the  seeds  of  deadly  discord  were  sown  and  the  roots  of  heresy 
implanted. 

Let  short-sighted  mortals  who  see  in  the  Crusades  no  more  than  a 
violent  outburst  of  fanaticism,  or,  at  best,  a  colossal  scheme  of  con- 
quest devised  in  folly  and  conducted  to  disaster,  reflect  on  the 
prodigy  presented  to  the  world  in  the  immortal  movement  of  the 
twelfth  and  following  century.  Yerily,  the  hand  of  God  was  here. 
For  in  the  face  of  the  towering  obstacles  that  opposed  their  path;  in 
the  face  of  difficulties  almost  irremovable,  what  power  could  succeed 
in  calling  together  a  countless  host  from  every  nation  and  from  every 
part  of  Continental  Europe,  uniting  them  as  one  man,  with  one  pur- 
pose, one  idea,  one  rallying  cry, — the  rescue  of  the  Redeemer's  tomb, — 
and  leading  them  on  to  certain  death  or  joyful  victory — what  power 
could  do  this  but  the  power  of  God  ? 

To  behold  nothing  in  this  great  drama  of  modern  Jiistory,  but  the 
blind  enthusiasm  of  a  few  war-like  nations  ;  to  see  nothing  in  those 
holy  wars  but  a  foolhardy  enterprise  for  fame  or  for  emolument,  is 
to  divest  their  history  of  their  dominai;it  idea,  and  discard,  in  the  plan 
of  Providence,  one  of  the  most  striking  and  impressive  developments 
of  the  progress  of  Christianity.  There  is,  in  the  course  of  events,  an 
invisible  chain  linking  causes  and  consequences  together  by  a  skein 
so  fine  as  to  escape  the  scrutiny  of  superficial  investigation.  God's 
work  is  done  in  divers  ways,  and  various  are  the  instruments  of  His 
designs.  In  the  present  life  we  can  often  perceive  only  the  dim  re- 
flections of  deep  and  hidden  causes  operating,  by  the  divine  influ- 
ence, to  effect  some  vast  and  general  plan  whose  drift  and  scope  are 


9 

buried  beneath  a  labyrinth  of  incidental  phenomena,  or  circum- 
stantial occurrences.  We  merely  gaze  on  the  shell  when  we  should 
seek  for  the  kernel ;  and  in  examining  passing  phenomena  we  lose 
sight  of  great  and  permanent  realities.  But  even  in  their  visible  and 
tangible  results  the  Crusades  were  entitled  to  be  crowned  with  the 
guerdon  of  success  both  as  regards  the  spirit  that  animated  them, 
and  the  immense  influence  which  they  exercised.  They  were  the  ex- 
pression of  a  sublime  idea,  for  nothing  but  a  lofty  and  grand  idea 
could  inspire  the  enthusiasm  of  success  in  the  face  of  almost  insur- 
mountable obstacles.  A  religious  idea  was  necessary  to  excite,  to 
move,  to  support  men  in  so  arduous  an  enterprise.  The  divine 
breath  of  religion  alone  is  endowed  with  the  power  to  inspire  men 
with  superhuman  energy;  to  sustain  them  amidst  defeat,  disaster,  and 
death;  to  unite  them,  when  discordant  and  disunited,  with  one  aim^ 
one  thought,  one  common  sentiment,  one  living  flame  of  enthusiasm^ 
which  enabled  them  to  brave  all  perils,  to  defy  all  dangers,  to  spurn 
every  impediment,  and  press  forward,  with  a  holy  and  impetuous 
resolution,  to  rush  to  glory  or  the  grave.  And  what  was  this  idea  in 
its  concrete  and  tangible  form?  It  was,  in  a  secondary  sense,  the 
defence  of  their  homes  and  civilization  against  a  common  foe,  inso- 
lent, pitiless,  and  unsparing;  but  essentially,  and  chiefly,  it  was  their 
sacred  and  solemn  duty  of  defending  the  tomb  of  Christ  from  defile- 
ment and  profanation,  and  recovering  a  lawful  dominion  over  the 
holy  land  sanctified  by  the  blood-marked  footprints  of  a  crucified 
God. 

O  !  what  a  torrent  of  emotions,  in  the  days  of  fervid  faith,  swept 
through  the  souls  of  men  at  the  mention  of  the  tomb  of  their  Saviour, 
and  the  holy  land  of  His  birth.  It  was  to  them,  in  truth,  the  cradle 
of  Christianity  ;  the  city  of  the  Son  of  God  ;  the  dwelling-place  of 
the  King  of  Ages  and  the  Prince  of  Glory,  and  the  age-long,  conse- 
crated spot  where  the  chosen  people  of  Israel  had  listened  with  rap- 
ture and  with  awe  to  the  voice  of  the  God  of  their  fathers,  and  the 
God  of  their  children.  It  was  the  glorious  land  of  promise,  plente- 
ously  flowing  with  milk  and  honey  ;  redolent  with  the  aroma  of 
spikenard  and  cinnamon  ;  beautified  with  the  cedars  of  Lebanon,  the 
cypress  of  Basan  and  Carmel,  the  roses  of  Sharon,  and  the  lilies 
of  Jehosaphat ;  sanctified  by  the  smoke  of  sacrifice,  and  glorified  by 
the  white  light  of  the  Shekinah,  illuminating  the  holy  temple  which 


10 

was  the  marvel  of  J  the  world  and  the  glory  of  the  people.  Well 
might  they  cry, — "  Jerusalem,  may  my  right  hand  perish  if  ever  I 
forget  thee."  For  that  name  was  invested  with  a  divine  and  hidden 
power,  which,  like  the  voice  of  the  Creator  calling  order  out  of  chaos, 
and  sending  light  through  the  vast  regions  of  the  universe,  shot 
forth  sparks  of  light  and  life  to  illumine  every  corner  of  the  world. 
It  has  well  been  said,  that  there  has  never  been  a  great  idea  which 
was  not  born  in  the  Holy  Land  before  its  diffusion  through  the 
world.  All  the  great  miracles  of  history  took  their  origin  in  the  land 
of  Palestine.  Priests  there  offered  sacrifice  ;  prophets  there  fore- 
told the  judgments  of  God  and  the  destinies  of  man ;  kings  there 
ruled  by  divine  right ;  and,  if  ever  in  the  world,  it  was  there  the 
theocratic  form  of  government,  with  royal  splendor  and  divine  puis- 
sance, asserted  its  ascendency  and  maintained  undisputed  sway. 
There,  too,  on  the  authority  of  tradition,  reposed  the  bones  of  the 
great  ancestor  of  the  race  ;  and  there  the  sons  of  Noah  and  many 
succeeding  generations  mingled  their  ashes  with  the  common  dust. 
There  the  odors  of  the  holocaust  ascended  daily  to  the  heavens,  and 
there,  upon  the  altar  raised  above  the  ashes  of  the  first-bom  of  the 
race,  so  long  crimsoned  with  the  blood  of  brutes  and  men,  was  con- 
summated the  great  sacrifice  of  Calvary  and  the  Son  of  the  eternal 
God  slain  for  the  redemption  of  mankind.  No  wonder,  that  at  one 
time  or  another,  nearly  all  the  nations  of  the  eaiih  had  laid  claim  to 
the  Holy  Land.  What  marvel  if  at  the  sound  of  these  sacred  names, 
every  chord  of  affection  was  awakened,  all  the  fountains  of  feeling 
were  profoundly  stirred,  and  millions  of  men  marched,  unmurmur- 
ingly,  nay,  joyously,  into  the  mouth  of  inevitable  destruction.  They 
freely  offered  their  blood  to  the  Son  of  God,  who  had  so  freely  laid 
down  His  life  for  their  salvation.  They  cheerfully  took  up  His  cross, 
and  entered  upon  their  perilous  engagement  with  an  unfaltering 
trust  in  God,  and  a  serene  confidence  in  the  invulnerability  of  arms 
blessed  by  the  God  of  battles.  His  gracious  providence  would  watch 
over  them  upon  the  way  ;  His  power  would  smooth  the  difficulties 
that  beset  their  path  ;  His  favoring  smiles  would  warm  their  zeal, 
and  give  zest  to  their  endeavors  ;  His  undoubted  assistance  would 
impart  strength  to  their  efforts,  and  crown  their  holy  enterprise  with 
the  coveted  garland  of  success.  Kivers  might  not  open  a  dry  way 
for  their  passage  ;  citadels  and  ramparts  might  not  fall  down  at  the 


11 

blare  of  their  trumpets  ;  the  sun  might  not  be  arrested  in  his  course 
in  the  heavens,  to  lend  victory  to  their  banners  ;  but  the  God  of  Is- 
rael would  still  be  with  them  ;  the  pillar  of  Jehovah's  cloud  would 
shield  them  on  their  journey  ;  the  column  of  fire  would  be  a  lamp 
unto  their  feet  and  the  justice  of  their  cause  would  triumph  when 
the  arm  of  God  was  raised  for  the  destruction  of  the  enemies  of  the 
Cross,  and  the  blasphemers  of  the  Christian  name. 

Thus  prompted  by  the  spirit  of  a  divine  enthusiasm,  by  belief  in 
the  merit  and  justice  of  their  cause,  by  the  hope  of  a  heavenly  recom- 
pense and  the  assurance  of  aid  from  the  Almighty  Euler  of  the  na- 
tions, they  made  ready  for  the  fray  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  God  of 
hosts. 

Burgher  and  peasant  sold  their  lands  and  parted  from  their  child- 
hood's home  without  a  sigh  ;  serfs  attached  to  the  servitude  of  the 
glebe  begged  and  obtained  their  freedom  for  the  fight ;  artisans  laid 
aside  the  instruments  of  their  industry  ;  nobles  relinquished  their 
baronial  halls  and  manors,  their  castles  and  their  lands  ;  princes 
alienated  their  provinces,  and  kings,  in  some  instances,  descended 
from  thrones  of  luxury  and  power,  and  detached  themselves  from 
the  fascinating  glamour  of  the  court ;  men,  in  fine,  of  talent  and  au- 
thority, men  in  every  walk  of  life,  turned  aside  from  their  customary 
pursuits,  to  grasp  their  trusty  sword,  to  raise  the  gonfalon  of  the 
Crucified,  and  to  rise  in  multitudinous  numbers,  and,  as  it  were,  to 
loose  Europe  from  its  foundations  and  hurl  it  with  headlong  force 
against  the  walls  of  Asia.  On  they  came,  countless  as  the  stars  of 
heaven,  or  the  sands  upon  the  shore  ;  on,  past  the  confines  of  France 
and  LoiTaine  ;  along  the  shores  of  the  Khine  and  the  Danube,  the 
Dniester  and  the  Elbe  ;  over  the  Carpathian  Mountains  and  the 
Transylvania  Alps  ;  through  wild  and  desolate  regions  covered  with 
moor  and  morass,  fen  and  bog,  and  virgin  forest,  intersected  by  un- 
fordable  streams,  beethng  crags,  and  abysmal  defiles,  and  choked 
by  nature's  almost  impassable  barriers,  and  through  the  highways  of 
civilization  into  parts  where  man  had  not  yet  dared  to  claim  domin- 
ion over  the  earth,  they  unflinchingly  pressed  on,  undaunted  and  un- 
dismayed, till  they  stood  on  the  banks  of  the  Bosphorus,  beheld  the 
glint  of  laughing  waters  on  the  bosom  of  the  Black  Sea,  and  saw  the 
sun  light  up  with  the  fire  of  Oriental  splendor  the  mosques  and  tem- 
ples of  Constantinople.     Still  on  they  strove  across  waters  to  the 


12 

shores  of  Asiatic  Turkey,  till  worn  and  weary  they  crossed  the  plains 
of  Sharon  and  the  mountains  of  Judea,  and  rested  their  enraptured 
eyes  upon  the  burnished  battlements  and  golden  gates  of  the  holy 
city  of  Jerusalem.  What  a  sublime  spectacle  those  legions  were,  as, 
buoyed  up  by  the  romantic  character  of  their  design,  enkindled  by 
the  ardor  of  a  quenchless  enthusiasm,  and  flushed  with  the  hope  of 
speedy  and  decisive  victory,  they  ranged  around  the  frowning  walls 
before  them,  under  the  royal  banner  and  oriflamme  of  France,  and  the 
pennants  and  bannerets  of  Germany,  with  gleaming  shield  and  glitter- 
ing lance,  and  brazen-pointed  spear,  and  good  sword  in  their  hands, 
ready  to  dare  and  die  for  the  cause  that  bore  them  from  their  homes^ 
their  country  and  firesides. 
In  sooth  they  were 

"  A  glorious  company,  the  flower  of  men, 
To  serve  as  model  for  a  mighty  world, 
And  be  the  fair  beginning  of  a  time." 

The  Crusades,  in  one  sense,  were  not  a  success.  But  success 
is  not  the  end  of  life.  Success  is  not  even  the  test  of  merit,  for 
"heaven  is  made  for  those  who  fail";  and,  if  this  be  true,  as  true  it 
must  be  for  failure  in  a  noble  cause,  the  vast  pyramids  of  bones  in 
the  valley  of  Nice  and  on  the  fields  of  Palestine  are  merely  the  mon- 
uments of  martyrs  who  exchanged  the  wreath  of  eairthly  victory  for 
the  crown  of  heavenly  recompense. 

Nor  yet  were  the  Crusades  a  failure.  The  seed  cast  into  the 
ground  is  hidden  for  a  time,  from  sight ;  and  its  virtue  cannot  be 
measured  till  it  brings  forth  finiit  in  proper  season.  The  full  fruit 
of  their  own  planting  the  Crusaders  did  not  behold  ;  and  what  their 
sowing  would  bring  forth  they  themselves  but  jejunely  suspected. 
The  human  mind  seldom  seizes  all  the  ramifications  of  an  idea,  and 
still  less  the  complete  consequences  of  a  deed.  In  simple  form  and 
tangible  shape  the  idea  of  the  heroes  who  went  forth  to  battle  was 
the  rescue  of  the  Redeemer's  tomb;  but  that  attempt,  though  mainly 
abortive,  was  to  change  the  whole  current  of  history,  and  "  be  the 
fair  beginning  of  a  time."  They  aimed  only  at  the  deliverance  of  a 
sepulchre  ;  they  were  the  saviours  of  civilization,  the  deliverers  of 
the  world.  Posterity  thrusts  its  sickle  into  the  harvest  gleaned  by 
the  heroes  of  medieval  days.     They  builded  wiser  than  they  knew, 


13 

no  doubt,  but  their  merit  was  the  integrity  of  their  intentions,  the 
consummate  courage  of  their  lives,  the  sublime  heroism  of  their 
deaths.  They  placed  a  mighty  stake,  and,  in  one  sense,  they  lost;  but 
their  loss  was  the  gain  of  future  generations.  Pinched  by  the  frosts 
of  an  Alpine  winter  ;  scorched  by  the  bui-ning  rays  of  a  Syrian  sun  ; 
consumed  by  intolerable  thirst ;  spent  by  fatigue,  exhausted  by 
hunger,  and  ravaged  by  disease,  the  ghastly  companion  of  want, 
they  perished  like  the  leaves  of  the  forest,  and  mingled  their  bones 
with  the  dust ;  but  from  their  nameless  tombs  sprang  forth  the 
bright  light  of  a  new  creation  ;  and  upon  the  ash-formed  mound  of 
our  ancestors  arose  the  monuments  of  present  progress  and  modern 
civilization.  We  know  what  they  could  not  foretell,  the  lasting  re- 
sults and  permanent  progress  that  outhved  their  endeavors,  and 
sprang  from  their  enterprise.  At  this  distant  day  we  can  measure 
their  work. 

In  the  material  order,  even,  the  results  of  the  Crusades  were  more 
than  commensurable  with  their  feaiiul  cost  in  life  and  treasure. 

Our  rude  forefathers  did  not  compare  with  the  polished  Orientals, 
who  rejoiced  in  the  possession  of  the  hoary,  age-crowned  civiliza- 
tion of  the  world.  To  this  ancient  civilization,  the  Crusades  opened 
the  eyes  of  the  West,  and,  while  dazzled  with  the  pleasing  prospect, 
the  almost  semi-barbaric  tribes  of  Europe  were  introduced  to  the 
cultivation  and  refinement  of  the  East.  They  beheld  with  wonder- 
ment the  superior  polish  and  refinement  of  Cairo,  Alexandria,  and 
Constantinople  ;  and  they  saw  with  amazement  the  learning  and 
philosophy  of  the  Orient.  Their  admiration  was  excited,  their  emu- 
lation aroused,  and  these,  as  mostly  tney  do,  gave  birth  to  imitation. 
The  most  notable  progress  was  in  trade,  and  manufactures,  and  in 
the  arts  and  sciences,  inspired,  on  the  one  hand,  by  the  spirit  of  in- 
dustry, or  the  calls  of  necessity  ;  and  on  the  other,  by  the  greed  of 
gain,  or  the  longings  of  luxury.  Gorgeous  Tyrian  dyes  were  im- 
ported into  France  to  deck  the  robes,  and  costly  gems  and  pearls  to 
adorn  the  persons  of  royalty.  From  Egypt,  and  from  Greece,  silks 
and  sorghums  found  their  way  to  Western  Europe,  and  the  sweet 
spices  and  juicy  gums  of  Arabia  and  Palestine  became  merchant- 
able commodities  in  the  markets  of  Lyons  and  of  Frankfort.  From 
the  astute  Arabs,  the  rudiments  of  medicine  and  mathematics  were 
derived  by  the  adventurous  pilgrims  of  the  Cross  ;  while  on  their 


u 

weary  march  they  listened  in  thoughtful  mood  to  the  apothegms  of 
Aristotle,  or  cheered  their  lonely  hours  by  hearing  the  songs  of 
Homer  chanted  in  the  poet's  native  tongue.  History  here  took  a 
new  turn,  for  the  course  of  civilization,  which  so  long  seemed  declin- 
ing, like  an  erratic  comet  on  its  downward  track,  began  to  move  in 
ascending  lines  again,  and  that  progression  of  the  race  which  had  so 
long  ebbed  began  to  flow  with  accelerated  motion  towards  the  set- 
ting sun.  At  that  very  hour  might  Berkeley's  prophecy  have  been 
written  : 

"  Westward  the  course  of  Empire  takes  its  way; 

The  four  first  acts  already  past, 
The  fifth  shall  close  the  drama  of  the  day  ; 

Time's  noblest  off-spring  is  the  last." 

In  the  social  and  political  order,  the  results  were  not  less  striking, 
and  still  more  beneficial. 

The  great  mass  of  mankind,  under  the  hard  j^oke  of  feudalism, 
were  chained  to  the  soil,  without  the  enjoyment  of  property  or  the 
hope  of  freedom  ;  every  prospect  of  remunerative  industry,  every 
avenue  of  advancement  or  improvement,  was  choked  by  the  insolence 
and  greed  of  rapacious  lords  and  barons  ;  the  seeds  of  barbarism, 
still  sprouting  in  the  human  breast,  devoted  many  victims  to  their 
own  hcentiousness,  and  urged  them  to  act  in  defiance  of  order  and 
of  law  ;  in  fine,  outside  the  higher  nobles  and  the  clergy,  who,  de- 
spite the  spirit  of  individuality  characteristic  of  their  ages,  alone 
occupied  the  status  of  men,  society  seemed  hopelessly  discordant 
and  disrupted,  if  not  on  the  verge  of  chaos,  or  walking  in  the  shadow 
of  an  approaching  cataclysm.  Among  the  chief  causes  that  under- 
mined the  great  fabric  of  Gothic  tyranny  and  violence  the  Crusades 
were  pre-eminent.  The  boundless  estates  of  the  arrogant  barons 
were  dissipated  and  divided  ;  their  insupportable  indigence  extorted 
from  them  charters  of  freedom  for  the  down-trodden  peasantry;  and 
many  of  the  most  iniquitous  among  them  were  utterly  extinguished 
in  the  Holy  Wars.  The  state  of  feudal  vassals  was  thus  improved  ; 
and  the  institution  of  feudality  itself  was  shaken  from  turret  to 
foundation-stone.  The  human  mind,  developed  by  travel  and  obser- 
vation, began  to  assert  its  ascendency  over  mere  brute  force  ;  might 
gave  place  to  right ;  the  cruel  ordeal,  the  deadly  duel,  and  the  relics 
of  barbarism  and  superstition  fell  into  merited  disgrace  ;  individu- 


15 

ality  received  a  new,  but  conservative,  impulse  ;  popular  liberty  ob- 
tained a  fresh  footing  and  a  nobler  aim  ;  the  reign  of  law  was  firmly 
established  ;  commerce  was  created  ;  fleets  and  navies  commenced 
to  float  upon  the  seas  ;  and  to  society,  in  every  vein  and  artery,  was 
imparted  a  new  and  powerful  propulsion,  which  cai-ried  Europe  to 
the  maturity  of  its  development,  and  gave  the  benefit  of  life  and 
form  to  the  civilization  of  to-day. 

Nor  was  this  all.  A  spirit  of  fraternity  sprang  up  among  the 
nations  engaged  in  a  common  cause,  and  united  them  in  one  brother- 
hood of  faith,  and  one  fatherhood  in  God.  Everywhere  faith  blos- 
somed forth  hke  flowers  after  a  long  winter,  or  like  the  verdure  of 
the  forest;  and  everywhere  the  most  heroic  deeds,  the  most  mag- 
nanimous virtues,  bloomed  on  the  once  sterile  soil  of  dust-prone 
humanity,  and  lent  to  the  age  a  lustre  not  inferior  to  the  days  of 
pristine  Christianity.  The  idle  and  degenerate  found  release  from 
crime  in  the  activity  of  occupation  ;  the  gay  and  frivolous  had  to 
relinquish  their  puerile  pursuits  in  the  task  of  recuperating  their 
fortunes  ;  the  tyrannous  and  despotic  tempered  their  arrogance  in 
the  new-bom  necessity  of  dependence  ;  and  in  the  work  of  general 
purification,  laxity  of  morals  was  restrained;  faith,  fickle  and  languid, 
was  refreshed  ;  charity,  cold  and  feeble,  was  revived,  and  the  whole 
face  of  society  enkindled  with  animation,  never  before  beheld,  by  the 
divine  breath  of  religion,  renovating  by  the  power,  and  regenerating 
by  the  genius  of  the  all-pervading  spirit  of  the  Crusades. 

And,  lastly,  the  wild  energy  of  reason,  lashing  with  blind  fury 
against  the  foundations  of  religion,  was  impotently  spent  upon  the 
strong  ramparts  of  piety  and  devotion  ;  the  untamed  ardor  of  the 
intellect,  expending  itself  in  profitless  discussion  and  the  subtleties 
of  sophistry,  more  dangerous  to  civilization  than  the  fierce  onslaughts 
of  barbarism,  was  cooled  and  checked,  and  the  mind  in  its  drifting 
vagaries  was  solidly  anchored  to  the  immovable  moorings  of  authority, 
discipline,  and  religion.  In  the  imperative  needs  of  the  hour,  in  the 
acknowledged  necessity  of  mutual  sympathy  and  support  unattaina- 
ble under  the  sway  of  any  temporal  sovereign,  the  Papacy  was  exalted 
to  its  lofty  position  at  the  head  of  affairs,  and  the  dominion  of  the 
world,  in  the  sovereignty  of  the  Pontiff  of  Rome,  was  decreed  by  the 
international  polity  of  the  time,  and  the  pacification  of  Europe 
entrusted  to  hands  which  alone  could  adjust  the  balance  of  power. 


16 

and  secure  to  succeeding  ages  the  liberties,  rights,  and  all  the  treas- 
ures of  civilization  which  were  the  legitimate,  though  unforeseen,  con- 
sequences of  one  of  the  bloodiest  dramas  in  the  whole  history  of  the 
world  during  the  ages  of  faith. 

To  defend  everything  in  a  rude  age,  when  society  was  still  unformed 
and  the  action  of  religion  incomplete  and  hampered  by  a  variety  of 
opposing  forces,  would  be  as  injudicious  as  it  is  unphilosophical. 
But,  although  the  base  and  the  benevolent,  the  rude  and  the  refined, 
the  natural  and  the  supernatural,  were  very  strangely  and  inhar- 
moniously  blended  in  those  days,  we  have  still  much  to  learn  from 
the  middle  ages — much  to  curb  the  insolence  of  modern  manners, 
the  selfishness  of  modern  society,  and  the  pride  of  modern  life.  Not 
in  the  splendor  and  the  glory  of  the  proud  civilization  of  ancient 
Kome  and  Greece;  not  in  the  intellectual  ages  of  antiquity,  whether 
in  the  schools  of  Alexandria  or  in  the  groves  of  Academus;  not  in  the 
elegance  and  refinement  of  the  post-medieval  centuries  shall  we  find 
those  lessons  most  needful  in  our  cold  and  calculating  age: — no;  but 
in  those  illustrious  and  beautiful  virtues  of  simplicity,  faith,  reverence, 
and  honor  of  the  age  of  the  Crusades,  we  shall  find  the  true  tonic  for 
the  mad  infidelities  of  the  present  time,  and  we  likewise  shall  behold 
the  prodigies  wrought  by  Christianity  in  taking  hold  of  nations  in  the 
period  of  their  barbarous  infancy,  nursing  them  through  the  help- 
lessness of  childhood,  subduing  their  wild,  unruly  youth,  and  at 
length  developing  in  them  the  full  dignity  and  immortal  beauty  of 
Christian  manhood.  We  seek  not  to  extenuate  the  faults,  neither  do 
we  blind  ourselves  to  the  virtues  of  those  days  when  Faith,  watered 
by  the  spirit  of  penance  and  warmed  by  the  sunshine  of  primitive 
fervor,  began  her  silent  march  through  the  dark  groves  and  forests 
of  France  and  Germany.  In  this  age  do  we  meet  the  fullest  develop- 
ment of  the  Cliristian  life,  as  such,  that  has  yet  been  seen  upon  the 
earth.  In  this  age  do  we  behold  the  most  docile  faith,  because  it  was 
the  faith  of  a  pious-minded  but  untaught  people,  and  therefore,  for 
that  very  reason,  more  ductile  in  the  moulding  hand  of  the  Church. 
In  this  age  do  we  also  find  the  purest  and  the  simplest  faith,  because 
the  Humanists  had  not  yet  come  to  pollute  the  Christian  atmosphere 
of  Europe  vdth  the  miasma  of  Pagan  philosophy  and  the  lascivious 
literature  of  Greece,  nor  to  exalt  the  teachings  of  Aristotle  above  the 
simplicity  of  the  Gospel;  and  the  renaissance  had  not  yet  appeared  to 


17 

debauch  the  mind  with  the  grovelling  tendencies  of  Greek  thought, 
nor  to  corrupt  the  imagination  by  the  study  of  Greek  models. 

Look  at  the  men  of  the  middle  ages.  In  them  we  read  the  annals 
of  those  ages  ;  for  men  make  history,  and  their  lives  tell  the  tale  of 
the  times  in  which  they  flourished.  In  those  men  we  discover  an 
omnipresent  and  ever-abiding  faith  which  ruled  their  lives  and  guided 
the  whole  tenor  of  their  conduct.  They  dwelt  in  an  atmosphere  of 
religion,  and  the  reaUzation  of  the  spiritual  world  was  to  them  as 
lively  as  the  existence  of  the  sensible  world  was  actual.  "What  a 
magnificent  faith  was  that  which  moved  multitudes  to  precipitate 
themselves,  like  a  mighty  mountain  avalanche,  upon  the  shores  of 
Asia  to  rescue  the  Redeemer's  tomb,  when  destruction  seemed  the 
foreordained  penalty!  And  what  sublime  heroism  they  evinced! 
Well  might  Tasso  chant  the  praises  of  a  Godfrey  or  a  Tancred. 
When  the  Holy  City  was  captured  by  the  Christians,  and  to  the  vic- 
torious hero,  De  Bouillon,  was  offered  the  kingly  crown  as  the  just 
meed  of  his  valor,  should  the  student  of  history  be  info;rmed  of  his 
answer  :  "  Never  shall  I  wear  a  crown  of  gold  where  my  Redeemer 
carried  a  crown  of  thorns."  And  when  overtaken  by  disaster  almost 
irreparable,  when  discomfited  by  repulse  and  loss  sufficient  to  appall 
the  stoutest  breast  that  ever  shield  defended,  the  doughty  champion 
of  the  Cross,  Tancred,  the  unterrified,  exclaimed  :  "  Never  shall  I 
relinquish  Palestine  while  forty  knights  remain."  When  shall  their 
laurels  fade  ?  When  shall  their  memory  die  ?  When  shall  their 
chivalry  cease  to  call  forth  our  admiration  ?  Brave  they  were,  and 
tender ; —for  the  brave  are  always  so ;  knights  without  fear  or  reproach, 
whose  like  we  may  see  no  more  in  the  council  or  in  the  camp.  On 
the  eve  of  battle  they  prepared  for  the  fight,  whetting  their  trusty 
sword  with  one  hand,  and  with  the  other  leaning  on  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  whom  they  embraced  with  ardor  at  the  altar  where  His  blood, 
mystically  flowing,  shrived  them  from  faults,  and  sanctified  their 
souls.  Men  they  were  who  knew  no  fear,  but  withal  strong  and  sim- 
ple souls  ;  and  simplicity  was  the  foundation  of  their  greatness. 
Alas !  that  such  simplicity  should  be  laughed  down  at  the  present 
day,  and  have  almost  disappeared  from  the  land. 

Of  medieval  chivalry,  the  beau-ideal  was  Louis  IX.  of  France, 
who  had  but  three  words  inscribed  upon  his  heart,  Dieu,  France,  ef 
Marguerite.     With  his  latest  breath  he  entreats  his  son  and  successor 
2 


18 

to  the  throne  to  compassionate  the  poor  and  to  preserve  the  liberties 
of  his  people.  In  his  exquisite  devotion  to  Marguerite  he  was  the 
true  type  of  the  Chivalry  of  his  age,  which  embalmed  the  character 
of  woman  with  an  atmosphere  of  reverence,  surrounded  her  with  a 
halo  of  homage  and  respect  which  the  boasted  refinement  of  the  pres- 
ent is  unable  to  imitate  and  incompetent  to  understand.  To  rehabil- 
itate and  elevate  woman,  so  much  degraded  by  the  coarseness  of 
Paganism  ;  to  look  upon  her  as  the  help-mate  of  the  sterner  sex  ;  to 
regard  her  as  a  ministering  spirit,  who  by  her  purity,  her  tenderness, 
and  her  devotion,  was  destined  to  ennoble,  to  soften,  and  to  spiritu- 
alize the  hard  and  rough-hewn  nature  of  man, — this  was  the  aim  and 
spirit  of  Chivalry,  and  it  was  an  impulse  born  of  Christianity  and  the 
refining  influence  of  the  Gospel  of  a  tender  Jesus. 

In  forming  an  estimate  of  the  men  of  medieval  times,  superficial 
observers,  in  condemning  their  immanity  of  manners,  overlook  the 
fact  that  nineteen  centuries  of  Christian  civilization  were  required  to 
beget  that  tone  of  toleration,  that  mildness  of  opinion,  and  that 
gentility  of  feeling  which  we  justly  prize  and  perhaps  unduly  vaunt 
to-day.  At  the  same  time  they  unthinkingly  or  perversely  ascribe  to 
the  intolerance  of  the  Catholic  Church  the  ferocity  of  temper  that 
characterized  the  military  spirit  of  medieval  times ;  forgetting,  or 
neglecting,  to  consider  that  the  Church  laid  her  hand  upon  a  barbar- 
ous people  whom,  by  degrees,  her  divine  power  transformed,  purified, 
and  softened  beyond  all  expectation  of  those  who  realize  the  imper- 
ishable savagery  of  the  human  heart. 

But  the  middle  ages  were  mightily  maligned.  The  men  of  those 
days  were  rough  and  rugged  characters,  but  for  all  that  they  were 
great  men  of  sublime  and  heroic  mould.  Greatness  and  worth  are 
always  born  of  conflict.  Let  our  path  be  rose-strewn,  and  soft  south- 
ern gales  always  blowing,  and  mankind  would  be  a  mass  of  Sybarites 
dissolved  in  sloth  and  effeminacy.  Nor  were  the  most  doughty  war- 
riors wanting  in  the  fine  feelings  of  the  present  order  of  civilization. 

The  training  of  the  Knights  was  a  stern  and  tedious  task.  They 
were  duly  informed  in  everything  concerning  the  methods  of  war- 
fare then  in  vogue  ;  but  even  still  more  rigorously  in  the  art  of  gen- 
tle manners,  in  the  practice  of  politeness,  and  in  the  manifestation 
of  those  courtesies  which  spring  from  the  lessons  of  Christian  Char- 
ity, as  flowers  from  their  native  soil.     They  were  severely  taught  to 


19 

respect  age,  experience,  rank,  and  superiority  ;  to  reverence  weak- 
ness, to  compassionate  suffering,  misfortune,  and  distress  ;  and  the 
"Knight  who  failed  in  these  indispensable  qualities  of  his  honored 
order  was  a  reproach  to  his  profession,  and  affixed  to  his  name  the 
stigma  of  indelible  disgrace.  The  profession  of  arms  was  warranted 
by  the  stern  necessities  of  the  times,  and  in  some  sense  sanctified 
by  the  true  knight  of  Chivalry  ;  for  he  swore  to  discharge  with 
religious  loyalty  the  duties  of  his  calling  ;  he  laid  his  sword  upon 
the  altar  to  seal  the  ceremony,  and  he  was  invested  with  the  insignia 
of  his  office  in  the  name  of  the  Almighty  and  his  tutelary  angel. 

The  immense  influence  of  such  an  institution  in  impressing  prin- 
ciples of  truth,  justice,  honor,  and  humanity  upon  all  who  pledged 
fealty  thereto,  and  in  refining  the  temper  and  lending  grace  and 
urbanity  to  the  manners  of  those  who,  in  lofty  aspiration,  upheld 
the  banners  of  Chivahy,  was  powerfully  experienced  by  men  whose 
recent  rescue  from  the  grossness  of  barbarism  left  them  much  in 
need  of  some  generous  ideal  to  elevate  their  sentiments  and  feelings. 
Such  an  ideal  was  found  in  Christian  Chivalry.  The  intensity  of 
private  hatred  was  diminished,  for  none  would  draw  the  sword  save 
for  justice  and  necessity  ;  and  the  harshness  and  asperity  of  national 
antipathy,  were  softened  and  toned  down,  for  religion  and  patriotism 
were  at  one  in  proclaiming  mankind  brethren  in  Christ,  and  exciting 
all  to  spirited  emulation  in  defending  their  common  heritage  of 
Christianity  from  the  incursions  of  idolatry  and  paganism.  Hence- 
forth it  was  no  longer  the  bloody  battle  in  the  forest  glade,  or  the 
wanton  slaughter  of  innocent  and  helpless  victims  on  the  roadside  ; 
nor  yet  was  it  the  salacious  spectacle  which  Roman  depravity  fed  to 
prurient  tastes  ;  but  it  was  the  gay  joust  and  tournament  gi'aced  by 
the  presence  of  high-born  dames  who  crowned  the  victor  for  his 
skill,  and  rewarded  him  by  favoring  smiles  for  his  dexterity  and 
courage.  But  woe  betide  the  unhappy  Knight  who  suffered  a  wound 
upon  his  honor,  or  fixed  a  stain  upon  his  sword  by  any  unchivalrous 
conduct,  or  false,  dishonorable  deed. 

The  Crusades  gave  to  Chivalry  an  enlarged  and  wide-extended 
sphere,  as  it  did  a  noble  and  exalted  aspect.  To  men  athirst  for  ad- 
venture and  for  glory,  and  tired  of  the  monotony  of  the  Gothic  tour- 
nament which  lacked  the  spicy  element  of  reality  ;  to  men  to  whom 
religion  and  military  renown  were  almost  the  only  forces  that  influ- 


20 

enced  their  minds  or  wrought  upon  their  iancj,  the  Crusades  opened 
a  romantic  prospect  of  fame  and  immortaUty,  fired  them  with  an 
ardent  enthusiasm  ;  and  when  the  bugle  call  was  sounded  to  rally 
the  Christian  hosts  against  the  myrmidons  of  Mahomet,  it  met  with 
a  response  whose  generosity  is  unexampled  in  the  annals  of  time. 
Prom  that  time  forward,  religion  and  the  profession  of  arms  were 
solemnly  married  in  the  rise  of  the  famous  military  orders,  which, 
long  after  the  great  excursions  to  Palestine,  preserved  their  religious 
character,  and  maintained  their  usefulness  in  protecting  the  helpless 
and  the  weak,  avenging  the  wrongs  of  injustice  and  oppression,  and 
defending  the  Church  against  the  implacable  enemies  who  sought 
the  destruction  of  civilization  in  the  common  ruin  of  religion.  When 
might  was  recognized  as  right ;  when  rapacity  ruled  everywhere  ; 
when  passions  held  predominant  sway  over  the  dictates  of  reason, 
the  proud  knights  of  Chivalry  composing  the  military  orders  dis- 
played a  uniform  character  and  conduct  remarkable  for  spotless  honor 
and  untarnished  virtue  ;  distinguished  for  superhuman  bravery  in 
the  field,  and  unruffled  gentleness  at  the  fireside  ;  noted  for  pure, 
exalted,  and  refined  reverence  for  woman,  undying  devotion  to  rehg- 
ion,  and  ardent  attachment  to  simple-minded  faith,  which  combined 
to  produce  the  fairest  soldier  of  Chivalry,  and  the  hero  whose  sub- 
limity of  demeanor  would  shed  lustre  upon  any  age. 

'*  Chivalry,"  it  has  been  beautifully  said  by  a  recent  writer,  "  was  a 
fair  tree  whose  roots  were  charity  and  humility  ;  whose  boughs  were 
valor  and  fidelity,  purity,  and  devotion,  and  whose  beautiful  crown 
and  flower  was  honor  ; — honor  that  peerless  sentiment,  which  was 
not  so  much  virtue  itself,  as  the  crown  and  perfection  of  all  virtue  ; 
the  perfume  of  their  combined  excellence,  and  the  splendor  of  their 
beauty." 

Where  this  sentiment  held  sway,  we  can  easily  understand  the 
great  reverence  for  woman,  who  in  the  best  days  of  Chivalry  might 
walk  the  land,  through  the  length  and  breadth  thereof,  unattended 
and  unmolested,  secure  in  her  person  and  her  virtue,  like  the  fair 
maid  of  Erin  in  the  golden  age  of  Malachy,  of  whom  the  poet  sweetly 

sings : 

"  Kich  and  rare  were  the  gems  she  wore, 
And  a  bright  gold  ring  on  her  wand  she  bore  ; 
But  oh  !  her  beauty  was  far  beyond 
Her  sparkling  gems,  or  snow-white  wand. 


21 


"  On  she  went,  and  her  maiden  smile 
In  safety  lighted  her  round  the  Green  Isle  ; 
And  blest  forever  is  she  who  relied 
Upon  Erin's  honor  and  Erin's  pride." 

"  But  the  age  of  Chivalry  has  gone,"  says  Burke ;  "  that  of  sophisters, 
economists,  and  calculators  has  succeeded,  and  the  glory  of  Europe 
is  extinguished  forever."  Yet  why  should  it  be  gone,  "  that  generous 
loyalty  to  rank  and  sex,  that  dignified  obedience,  which  kept  alive, 
even  in  servitude  itself,  the  spirit  of  an  exalted  freedom "  ?  Why 
should  it  be  gone,  "  the  unbought  grace  of  life,  the  nurse  of  manly 
sentiment  and  heroic  entei-prise  "  ?  Why  should  it  be  gone,  "  that 
sensibility  of  principle,  that  chastity  of  honor,  which  felt  a  stain 
like  a  wound  ;  which  inspired  courage,  while  it  mitigated  ferocity  ; 
which  ennobled  whatever  it  touched,  and  under  which  vice  itself  lost 
half  its  evil  by  losing  half  its  grossness  "  ? 

The  spirit  of  faith  is  a  living  spirit,  and  it  produces  works  that 
never  pass  away.  Chivalry  is  the  child  of  Faith,  and  the  daughter 
of  Keligion.  We  possess  the  faith  whence  sprang  the  lofty  virtues, 
the  tender  sentiments,  and  the  exalted  feelings  of  the  men  of  Chiv- 
alry ;  and  shall  that  faith  be  found  less  fruitful  now  ?  Is  the 
human  heai-t  less  tender,  the  soul  less  susceptible,  the  mind  of  man 
less  noble,  than  in  the  days  of  yore  ?  Has  religion  lost  its  power  to 
refine,  to  ennoble,  to  elevate  ?  Is  honor  dead  ?  Piety,  has  it  per- 
ished? Candor,  faith,  fidelity,  magnanimity,  integi'ity,  loyalty,  and 
generosity — have  they  gone  ?  No ;  it  cannot  be.  Since  these  flowers  of 
Chivalry  bloomed  upon  the  land, we  have  seen  much  of  the  vile  and  nox- 
ious cockle  spring  up  to  choke  the  tender  shoots  of  virtue  in  the  soiL 
We  have  had  a  boasted  Reformation,  but  where  is  the  reconstruction  ? 
Where  is  the  social  and  spiritual  advance  ?  Where  is  the  real  refine- 
ment and  the  urbanity  of  bearing,  the  gentleness  of  manners,  the 
keen  sense  of  honor,  that  adorned  and  exalted  the  ages  of  the  past  ? 
Material  prosperity  now  claims  the  meed  of  praise.  The  rush  of  the 
snorting  engine,  the  clatter  of  the  mill-wheel,  the  sound  of  the  gong 
and  the  hammer,  have  occupied  the  field,  where  once  the  bugle 
blast  resounded,  commanding  Christian  hosts  to  gather  and  "  charge 
with  all  their  Chivalr}^"  We  would  not  alter  time's  arrangements  if 
Yre  could,  and  we  could  not,  if  we  would.     Those  days,  we  would  not 


22 

call  them  back.  No  ;  but  the  divine  enthusiasm,  the  generous  ideals, 
the  high-toned  honor,  and  the  exalted  sentiment  that  crowned  and 
immortalized  them,  we  fain  would  behold  gracing  the  land  and  gar- 
nishing it  with  glory  resplendent  as  of  old.  Most  of  what  we  hold 
to-day,  of  wise  and  high  and  good,  has  come  down  to  us  from  those 
immortal  ages.  The  organization  of  labor  in  unions  of  self-defense, 
representative  government,  limited  or  constitutional  monarchy,  home 
rule,  municipal  corporations,  trial  by  jury,  international  law,  pacific 
arbitration,  and  other  institutions  of  like  importance  to  society  are 
the  heritage  bequeathed  to  posterity  by  the  genius  of  the  middle 
ages.  But  a  far  richer  legacy  than  all  was  the  shining  example  of  an 
indestructible  faith,  crowned  by  peerless  and  incomparable  charity. 

Let  us  turn  our  thoughts  from  the  hard  realities  of  the  present 
workaday  world  to  the  high  ideals  of  those  days.  Let  us  withdraw 
from  the  greedy  throng  that  surround  us  now,  to  live  once  more  in 
the  company  of  the  noble  dead.  Let  us  seek  the  modern  gentleman 
in  the  successor  of  the  chevalier  of  Chivalry,  in  whom  courtesy  and 
valor,  honor  and  simplicity,  faith  and  freedom,  grace,  goodness,  and 
bright  genius  shall  combine  to  produce  for  the  admiration  of  forth- 
coming ages  the  genuine,  true-born  gentleman. 


11. 

THE  IJSTDIAlSr  QUESTIOJST. 

The  mode  of  treatment  prescribed  by  our  government  for  the 
welfare  of  the  Indian  is  a  thing  not  bom  of  yesterday.  It  is  a  legacy 
bequeathed  to  us  by  the  Plymouth  Pilgrims  ;  and,  true  to  their 
example,  their  descendants  have  adhered  to  it  for  now  more  than  two 
hundred  years.  What  their  policy  was  is  known  but  too  well.  They 
who  fled  the  chastisement  of  the  sectarian  rod  in  England  scourged 
theu'  fellow-refugees  with  scorpions  in  America.  It  is  easy  to  fancy, 
then,  how  the  poor  savage  writhed  beneath  the  faUing  stroke  of  the 
puritanical  lash.  A  lapse  of  time  brought  about  a  change  of  rulers, 
and  upon  the  ruins  of  the  colonial  estabUshment  the  great  fabric  of 
our  Union  was  erected  ;  but  that  change  carried  no  spark  of  reviv- 
ing hope  to  the  redman's  broken  spirit. 

When,  hardly  more  than  a  century  ago,  the  oppressed  inhabitants 
of  this  land  resolved  to  cast  off  the  shackles  that  bound  them  to  the 
earth,  and  to  stand  disenthralled  among  the  nations,  a  race  of  suffer- 
ing fellow-creatures  begged  the  right  to  labor  and  to  live!  But 
even  this  pitiful  boon  the  hberty-loving  people  of  these  States  de- 
nied to  the  ill-starred  children  of  the  forest.  More  than  this  ;  the 
government  set  its  eye  upon  the  Indian's  land,  and  that  glance  proved 
fatal  to  the  Aborigine,  He  was  himself  no  expert  in  tracing  out 
the  sinuosities  of  legal  lore  ;  and  when  he  could  not  be  wheedled 
out  of  his  land  by  the  present  of  a  few  trinkets  and  other  gew- 
gaws, he  was  soon  ousted  from  it  by  a  complication  of  the  niceties 
and  finely-turned  points  of  American  law.  He  was  asked  to  sur- 
render that  which  by  right  of  priority  should  be  his  hereditary  pos- 
session forever ;  and  upon  his  refusal,  the  government  made  haste 
to  legislate  him  to  land  sufficiently  remote  from  the  land  of  his  an- 
cestors.    And  so  the  unhappy  savage  was  constrained  to  turn  his 


24 

back  on  the  Eastern  sun,  and  seek  a  new  home  on  the  bleak,  sterile 
prairie,  or  in  the  gloomy  and  forbidding  wood.  Never  could  he 
enter  again  his  luxuriant  garden  home,  for  the  flaming  sword  of  the 
grim-visaged  paleface  flashed  menacingly  athwart  the  entrance. 
Scattered,  like  broken  herds  of  deer,  exiles  from  scenes  endeared  to 
them  by  every  tender  association  and  tradition,  a  whole  nation  of 
Nature's  noblemen  wander  aimlessly  along,  sad,  dejected,  trampled 
children  of  despair.  With  Spartan  solidity  and  stoicism  they  yield 
to  the  unjust  sentence  pronounced  against  them  by  the  whites,  and 
stifle  that  soul-burning  emotion  it  begets,  but  whose  presence  they 
would  scorn  to  betray.  They  retired  beyond  the  waters  of  the  Miss- 
issippi in  quest  of  a  new  home.  Here  they  hoped  to  remain  undis- 
turbed, for  the  United  States  government  had  upon  solemn  oath  guar- 
anteed to  them  this  abode  for  all  time.  "  Go,"  said  the  government  to 
the  redman,  "  go  beyond  the  Mississippi  ;  there  your  white  brother 
shall  not  molest  you  ;  there  you  shall  live  in  peace  whilst  grass  grows 
or  water  runs."  We  all  know  how  punctiliously  this  promise  has 
been  kept.  Treaty  after  treaty  was  made  by  the  government,  and, 
like  that  of  Limerick,  broken  ere  the  ink  wherewith  it  was  written 
had  dried.  The  industrious  Cherokees,  who  had  begun  to  build 
schools  and  churches,  had  established  a  newspaper,  and  evfen  set 
about  the  formation  of  a  republic,  were,  despite  their  protest  and 
the  decision  of  a  Supreme  Court,  forced,  for  a  paltry  consideration, 
to  abandon  all,  whilst  their  republic  was  abolished  by  an  act  of 
legislature.  The  Creeks  fared  still  harder.  They  were  requested  to 
cede  back  all  the  lands  secured  to  them  by  treaty  some  years  before  ; 
and  for  refusing  compliance,  they,  on  the  shallow  pretext  that 
the  settlers'  lives  were  in  danger,  were  slain  to  the  last  man  by  an 
organized  military  force  under  General  Andrew  Jackson !  What 
wonder  if  their  surviving  kinsmen  vowed  perpetual  hate  against  the 
oppressor  ?  if  the  midnight  sky  shone  scarlet,  high  above  the  cabin 
of  the  paleface?  if,  when  the  fierce  eyeballs  glared  from  the 
thicket,  in  the  flash  of  an  instant  thereafter,  the  planter's  life-blood 
tinged  the  swarded  green!  And  now  before  their  feverish  im- 
aginations they  see  arise  the  ghosts  of  their  buried  ancestors,  who^ 
in  dread  spectral  array,  come  on  to  taunt  them  for  having  suffered 
the  spoliation  of  the  hallowed  bones  of  sagamores  and  seers.  Then, 
at  last,  in  a  spirit  bom  of  the  resistance  of  utter  despair,  they,  hke 


25 

a  tiger  at  bay,  spring  wildly,  impetuously,  upon  the  unrelenting  foe,, 
resolving  to  be  avenged,  or  to  die  in  the  endeavor.  The  onset  lasta 
but  a  moment.  It  is  a  vain  effort.  The  death-dealing  machinery* 
of  civihzed  warfare  is  too  potent  for  the  uncouth  weapons  of  savage 
handicraft.  The  redman  approaches,  then  pauses,  reels,  and  falls, 
crushed  to  the  eaiih.  And  many  in  the  land  cry  out,  "  Well  done  ! 
The  brutal  savage  deserves  to  be  annihilated^  He  is  unsusceptible 
of  civihzed  influences."  If  time's  effacing  fingers  would  blot  from 
history's  page  the  dark  record  of  their  wrongs,  then  indeed  might 
we  complain  if  they  still  refused  to  be  civilized.  Let  them  who 
condemn  the  clouted  savage  because  he  presumed  to  defend  with 
his  dying  breath  his  home  and  his  fireside,  go  offer  some  atonement 
for  all  the  injustice  heaped  upon  him  ; — let  them,  who  preach  of 
"  man's  inhumanity  to  man,"  go  administer  the  Lethean  chahce  to 
the  bitter  memories  of  the  redman's  past,  and  then,  perchance,  he 
may  believe  them  sincere  in  their  protestations  to  elevate  his  man- 
hood.    But  the  worst  remains  to  be  told. 

In  the  year  1870  there  was  organized,  under  the  auspices  of  some 
worthy  ministers,  the  present  Indian  peace-policy  of  the  government. 
Without  any  design  to  impugn  the  n|otives  of  these  men,  it  must  be 
said  that  a  sadder  travesty  of  what  constitutes  law  could  not  well 
be  imagined.  Then,  indeed,  if  not  before,  was  the  redman's  cup  of 
misery  filled  to  the  brim.  For  suddenly  there  came  trooping  down 
upon  him  a  mighty  legion  of  official  land-grabbers,  a  vast  horde  of 
pilfering,  speculating  agents  who  clung  to  him  with  the  tenacity  of  a 
parasite  to  its  bleeding  victim.  The  only  complaint  of  these  men 
was  of  the  irregularity  of  the  government  in  making  appropriations 
to  help  them  carry  out  their  humane  policy  of  peace.  They  made  a 
solitude  and  called  it  peace,  and  this  was  the  peace  they  gave  the 
Indian, — the  peace  of  a  cold  and  sHent  grave.  They  came  to  teach 
him  habits  of  improvidence  and  prodigality,  to  create  for  him  a 
thousand  superfluous  wants  which  they  did  not  tell  him  how  to 
satisfy.  Then,  too,  came  a  lawless  squad  of  whiskey-sellers  to- 
"  steal  away  his  brain,"  no  less  than  to  relieve  him  of  his  money. 
Unlike  Falstaff's  men,  who  were  food  for  powder,  these  men  made 
the  Indian  food  for  whiskey.  On  every  side  the  white  man,  to 
whom  he  looks  for  example,  as  a  being  wiser  than  himself,  tenders 
him  his  fire-water ;  so  that  now,  after  a  distribution  of  the  annui- 


26 

ties,  every  Indian,  man,  woman,  and  child,  that  is  capable  of  lifting 
a  jug  to  its  head  is  seen  wallowing  in  beastly  drunkenness. 
^  It  is  but  a  few  months  ago  that  one  of  the  most  sickening  phases 
of  this  benign  policy  was  displayed.  A  whole  band  of  Indians  were 
exiled  from  the  home  of  their  childhood  and  manhood  ;  and,  for 
murmuring  at  what  they  deemed  a  grievous  wrong,  they,  after  a 
heroic  march  of  1,000  miles  across  arid,  trackless  plains,  were  confined 
within  the  barriers  of  a  prison  when  the  thermometer  stood  twenty 
degrees  below  zero,  with  no  fire  and  no  clothing  to  keep  the  blood 
from  congealing  in  their  veins.  Dying  here  of  cold,  hunger,  and 
malaria,  they  at  last  determined  to  make  one  bold,  headlong  break 
for  life  and  liberty.  But  the  foe  was  quickly  in  pursuit.  The  men 
themselves,  supple  as  they  were,  might  easily  have  escaped,  but  they 
chose  to  encumber  themselves  with  their  wives,  and  the  young  chil- 
dren whom  they  carried  through  the  baptism  of  fire.  Ah !  yes ; 
these  barbarians  have  hearts  that  throb  sympathetically  with  love  of 
kindred  and  of  friends.  The  young  braves,  the  flower  of  the  band, 
form  themselves  into  a  rear-guard  for  the  protection  of  fleeing  kin- 
dred and  aged  parents.  This,  in  a  savage,  may  be  sentimental  attach- 
ment, but  it  is  the  basis  of  the  family,  of  the  State,  of  the  highest 
civilization.  And  yet  these  heroes  must  perish  !  They  are  called  on 
to  suiTender,  but  called  in  vain.  The  redman  thought  of  the  horrors 
of  the  past,  and  he  chose  to  die  rather  than  be  handed  over,  body 
and  bones,  to  the  tender  mercies  of  his  agents.  With  the  blades  of 
their  knives  they  cast  up  intrenchments  in  the  frozen  earth.  These 
becoming  untenable,  they  retire  into  a  deep  ravine,  and  await  an 
attack.  One  detachment  of  soldiery  is  deployed  to  skirmish.  An- 
other mounts  the  bluffs,  whilst  a  third  covers  the  entrance  to  the 
gully.  At  the  signal  given,  a  volley  of  leaden  rain  is  poured  down 
the  mouth  of  the  ravine.  In  an  instant  the  smoke  vanishes,  and 
everything  is  still.  All  that  remains  of  that  once  noble,  band  are  a 
few  old  women,  who,  in  mute  agony,  sit  on  the  cold  ground,  and 
gaze  on  the  lifeless  forms  before  them ! 

Such  are  the  legitimate  fruits  of  the  vacillating  and  temporizing 
policy  of  the  government.  Surely  they  are  terribly  eloquent  in  ex- 
posing the  manifold  abuses  and  defects  of  the  system.  This  policy 
is  one  of  shame  and  mollification  to  every  right-thinking  man,  Ke- 
ports  are  cooked  up  to  order,  but  the  shortcomings  of  those  agency 


27 

people  are  so  palpable  that  no  one  is  deceived.  One  power  could 
save  the  Indian  from  the  fate  to  which  he  has  been  doomed,  but  the 
bigotry  and  fanaticism  of  those  who  direct  the  present  policy  have 
practically  precluded  the  possibility  of  its  helping  him. 

*'  Of  all  the  sad  words  of  tongue  or  pen. 
The  saddest  are  these,  It  might  have  been." 

And  yet  we  must  say  that  the  fate  of  the  Indian  might  have  been 
otherwise  if  he  had  had  the  good  fortune  to  be  intrusted  to  Catholic 
keeping.  That  the  Catholic  Church  can  civilize  the  savages  is  amply 
attested  wherever  she  exercised  control  over  them.  Her  fostering 
influence  obtained  for  them  every  blessing  of  civilization  in  Canada. 
Nor  was  this  less  the  case  in  South  America,  where  the  model  Re- 
public of  the  world  was  founded  by  the  Jesuits.  Even  in  these 
States,  wherever  the  priests  had  free  scope  to  labor,  the  savage  for- 
sook his  nomadic  and  predatory  life,  washed  ofl*  his  paint,  and 
donned  the  costumes  of  civilization.  There  was  one,  too,  among 
those  priests  who  seemed  more  of  heaven  than  eaxth.  ,  Like  a  beacon 
pointing  out  the  path  of  the  mariner  amid  the  mists  and  darkness  of 
the  stoi-m-troubled  night  to  a  hav^n  of  security,  so  was  he,  as  an 
angel  of  light,  guiding  on  the  groping  savage  through  the  obscurity 
of  pagan  ignorance,  and  indicating  the  true  way  that  led  to  that 
place  of  tranquillity  and  rest,  the  all-embracing  knowledge  of  the  one 
true  God.  His  life  was  gentle,  and  his  people  loved  him;  for,  deep- 
traced  on  the  redman's  heart,  and  deep-rooted  in  his  memory,  is  the 
fond  recollection  of  the  noble,  heroic,  and  self-denying  Father  De 
Smet. 

Filled  with  memories  of  such  men  as  he,  the  poor  savage  to-day 
demands  that  priests  of  the  Catholic  Church, — "those,"  says  he, 
"who  wear  the  black  gowns,"  be  sent  to  instruct  him.  Yes;  they 
want  representatives  of  that  Church  which  they  have  learned  to 
honor  and  to  love.  But  even  this  concession  to  the  rights  of  con- 
science a  professedly  tolerant  government  has  the  injustice,  in  a 
great  measure,  to  refuse.  Of  some  forty  agencies  to  which  it  is  en- 
tiiled,  the  Catholic  ministry  has  but  eight.  And  what  it  now  costs 
the  government,  in  the  way  of  teaching,  nearly  $40,000  per  annum, 
could,  as  our  missionaries  have  proved,  be  accomplished  through 
Catholic  management  for  about  $16,000.     And  though  it  be  admitted 


28 

that  an  Indian  under  Catholic  restraint  is  infinitely  better  than  a 
Protestant  savage  slinging  a  tomahawk,  yet  we  know  full  well  that, 
when  it  can  be  done.  Catholic  chaplains  will  not  be  permitted  to 
come  into  the  agencies  lest,  by  their  frugality,  they  should  lessen  the 
official  pickings  and  illicit  perquisites  of  those  same  well-fed  agents, 
who  have  reduced  the  redman  to  a  state,  beggarly,  beyond  all  powers 
of  description. 

Thus  the  great  problem  now  stands.  Our  able  politicians  are 
either  too  engrossed  with  questions  of  party,  or  of  personal  concern, 
to  give  any  heed  to  the  subject,  or  else  they  have  not  sufficient 
grasp  of  mind  to  solve  it.  And  so  the  overwhelming  work  of  de- 
struction goes  daily  on.  With  a  besom  of  fire,  the  redman  is  being 
swept  from  the  face  of  the  earth.  To-day  a  leading  general  of  the 
nation  cries  out:  "  Let  them  be  shot  down  like  dogs."  And  a  first- 
rank  newspaper,  re-echoing  the  same  brutal  sentiment,  cries  : 
"  Moral  suasion  is  no  longer  of  avail,  physical  force  must  be  em- 
ployed." As  snow  melts  from  the  mountain,  so  are  they  fading  away 
from  the  summit  of  their  glory.  As  stars  drop  from  their  seat  in  the 
firmament,  so  are  they  falling  from  the  seat  they  once  held  in  the 
human  family,  and  passing  into  the  darkness  of  oblivion.  Soon  they 
shall  live  in  our  memory  alone.  And  all  this  is  because  of  the  fla- 
grant injustice  of  that  people  w^ho  incessantly  prate  about  liberty,  and 
yet  refuse  to  recognize  the  principle  of  "  Live  and  let  live."  "  I 
tremble  for  my  country  when  I  think  that  God  is  just,"  said  Thomas 
Jefferson  in  reference  to  this  subject.  And  Wendell  Phillips  says 
that  at  the  judgment-seat  no  nation  will  lift  up  such  accusing  hands 
against  our  people  as  the  race  of  American  Indians. 

The  time  is  not  far  remote  when  the  direful  work  wiU  have  been 
accomplished.  The  redman's  home  is  now  "  voiceless,  lampless,  and 
hung  with  mourning."  His  vital  spark  is  growing  yet  more  faint, 
and  every  rude  blast  is  fiercer  than  ever.  It  pursues  him  more  hotly 
still;  and  it  will  continue  to  chase  him  on,  until  the  last  luckless 
savage  shall  go  down  to  his  dismal  doom,  "  like  a  lonely  bark  founder- 
ing in  the  waters,  and  perish  without  a  pitying  eye  to  weep  his  fall, 
or  a  friendly  hand  to  record  his  struggle." 


III. 

PREHISTORIC  AMERICA— INDIANS  AND   AZTECS. 

So  much  has  been  written  upon  American  antiquities  that  it 
would  be  a  vain  presumption  on  the  part  of  the  writer  to  attempt 
to  shed  any  new  light  upon  a  subject  which,  however  dark,  has  been 
very  persistently  and  successfully  explored. 

I  purpose  to  confine  my  remarks  to  the  ethnological  side  of  the 
question,  as  indicated  by  the  title  of  the  article. 

Of  the  existence  of  a  prehistoric  civilization  of  no  meanly  ad- 
vanced order  in  our  country  there  offers  ample  evidence.  The 
homes  of  the  cliff-dwellers  in  Colorado,  so  familiar  to  the  tourist's 
eye,  are  proof  of  consummate  skill  in  the  science  and  aii  of  archi- 
tectural construction. 

Upon  lofty,  almost  inaccessible  ledges  of  mountain  rock,  these 
curious  and  interesting  fabrications  stand  in  bold  defiance  of  the 
ravages  of  time.  Side  by  side  with  the  dwelling  is  the  tower,  with 
its  triple  enclosure  or  window,  to  serve  the  purpose,  probably,  of 
observation  or  attack.  These  buildings,  towers  and  houses  both, 
are  mai-vels  of  masonry,  both  in  the  evenness  and  strength  of  the 
jointure  of  the  parts,  and  in  the  solidit}"  and  symmetry  of  the  whole. 
"What  hands  were  those  that  deftly  put  together  these  puzzling 
monuments  of  a  bygone  time?  Who  were  those  chased  and  hunted 
creatures  who  probably  made  their  last  stand  against  the  desolating 
encroachments  of  a  hostile  race  in  these  mountain  eyries,  and  finally 
"passed  away  to  leave  no  trace,"  save  of  their  unique  skill  and 
handicraft,  so  manifestly  displayed  in  their  habitations  ?  That  they 
are  to  be  referred  to  a  period  prior  to  the  Indians  is  incontestable  ; 
and  that  they  were  subjugated  and  subdued  by  our  copper-colored 
friends  is  markedly  probable. 

Among  certain  tribes  of  Indians,  too,  there  is' found  evidence, 


30 

mostly  fragmentary,  of  no  inconsiderable  skill  and  handicraft  in  par- 
ticular trades  and  arts.  The  ability  to  temper  copper  to  the  con- 
sistency and  hardness  of  steel  is  well  known  and  effectually  baffles 
the  attempts  of  Yankee  genius  at  imitation.  The  manifold  specimens 
of  pottery,  stone  implements,  adzes,  iron  tools  and  numismatic 
articles  in  abundance  are  doubtless  the  appanage  of  a  higher  order 
of  civilization  than  that  of  the  redmen  of  the  forest ;  yet  even  these 
have  furnished  proof  of  moderate  capacity  in  the  production  of 
objects  of  utility  and  beauty,  as  wicker-work,  embroidery,  and 
various  sorts  of  finger-craft,  conspicuous  in  personal  ornaments, 
calumets,  wampum,  and  like  trappings  of  the  barbaric  or  semi- 
civilized  condition.  It  is  beside  our  aim  to  speculate  or  theorize  on 
these  discoveries,  for  we  have  in  mind  rather  the  consideration  of 
social  and  racial  characteristics.  The  subject  is  too  broad  to  be  more 
than  sketched  or  hinted  at  in  a  newspaper  article. 

As  the  race  of  redmen  declines,  our  interest  in  regard  to  it  in- 
creases. It  may  be  that  it  is  the  consciousness  of  guilt  that  makes 
us  look  upon  the  decline  of  a  race,  with  a  sad  and  melancholy  in- 
terest, whose  extermination  is  of  our  own  procuring,  instead,  as  we 
delude  ourselves,  of  being  the  work  of  manifest  destiny. 

The  Dacotahs  and  the  Alonguins,  as  we  are  told  by  historians, 
were  the  chief  tribes  inhabiting  the  country  between  the  Rockies 
and  the  Atlantic  coast  about  the  time  of  the  settlement  of  New 
Jersey  in  16*20. 

We  know  how  they  have  been  scattered  and  dispersed  ;  how  deci- 
mated and  destroyed  ;  how  hunted  and  killed  ;  hoAV  deteriorated  and 
degenerated  ;  but  still  essentially  the  same  since  those  far-off  days. 

Yes  ;  I  am  sure  he  is  the  same  old  Indian  to-day  that  he  was  from 
time  immemorial. 

Remarkable  for  their  powers  of  endurance  ;  patient  of  hunger  and 
thirst ;  insensible  to  hardship  and  fatigue  ;  agile,  active  and  strong, 
they  seem  admirably  adapted  to  live  the  nomadic  life  of  the  forest. 
They  are  not,  as  has  been  so  commonly  represented,  grave  and  taci- 
turn in  private  intercourse,  but  in  councils  and  on  solemn  occasions 
it  is  deemed  decorous  to  assume  an  air  of  apathetic  gravity  and  give 
no  indication  of  feeling.  I  do  believe  that  if  the  Indian  had  had  as 
much  education,  and,  consequently,-  as  many  ideas  as  the  white  man, 
he  would  be  not  less  noted  for  loquacity. 


31 

They  are  addicted,  as  a  rule,  to  unconquerable  indolence,  and, 
seemingly,  to  irremovable  dirt.  A  friend  of  mine  wlio  resides  at 
Belleville,  N.  J.,  relates  the  following  as  his  own  experience  : 

Some  years  ago  he  established  a  large  grocery  store  in  St.  Paul, 
Minnesota.  Requiring  help  in  the  business,  he  saw  a  big  strapping 
buck  one  day' among  a  party  of  Indians  who  were  wont  to  trade  at 
the  store  ;  he  proposed  to  hire  the  Hercules  at  a  liberal  stipend,  and 
the  offer  was  accepted,  and  the  contract  at  once  concluded.  But  one 
day,  to  the  astonishment  of  his  employer,  the  Indian  threw  a  sack  of 
flour  he  carried  upon  the  floor,  and  declared  his  intention  to  give  up 
his  work.  "  Don't  I  treat  you  well,"  said  the  grocer  ;  "  isn't  your 
pay  enough  ?  "  "  Yes,"  he  said,  "  pay  all  right,  money  heap  good, 
but  ugh !  me  no  squaw  ;  good-by,  me  no  squaw."  The  poor  fellow 
was  both  willing  to  work  and  anxious  to  secure  ihe  money;  but  his 
sensitive  soul  could  not  stand  the  taunts  and  scoffs  of  the  Indians 
who  daily  visited  the  store  for  the  purchase  of  goods  and  the  ex- 
change of  furs,  and  who  hurled  at  the  unfortunate  wight  the  soul- 
stinging  epithet,  squaw. 

It  is  undisputed  that  the  Indians  are  eminently  pious,  in  their  own 
way  of  worship,  or  at  least  were  so  before  their  corruption  by  the 
more  pretentious  whites.  They  all  believed  in  the  existence  of  a 
Deity,  on  monotheistic  principles,  and  this  Supreme  Existence  was 
to  them  the  all-wise,  benevolent,  and  powerful  God.  Strange  to  tell, 
they  rarely  or  never  invoked  him  in  prayer,  but  an  irreverent  men- 
tion of  his  name  they  regarded  as  a  most  shocking  blasphemy  ;  a 
good  lesson  for  many  Christians  distinguished  for  their  vile  pro- 
fanity. Some,  like  the  Manichseans,  pinned  their  faith  to  a  prin- 
ciple of  evil,  to  whom  they  sacrificed,  as  did  many  of  old,  to  Moloch. 
Their  belief  in  a  future  state  is  so  weU  known  as  hardly  to  require 
notice,  except  as  it  affords  additional  proof  that,  aside  from  revela- 
tion, men's  notions  of  paradise  are  formed  by  the  sensible  images 
and  objects  by  which  they  are  surrounded,  of  the  earth,  earthy  ;  and 
as  the  Mohammedan  places  his  future  felicity  in  sensual  delights  and 
carnal  pleasures,  so  the  Indian  would  have  the  inhabitants  of  the 
New  Jerusalem  to  occupy  themselves  in  one  everlasting  buffalo 
hunt.  As  with  many  barbaric  races,  among  the  Indians  also,  to  the 
functions  of  the  priesthood  was  conjoined  the  practice  of  surgery 
and  medicine. 


32 

The  individual,  therefore,  whose  office  it  was  to  placate  the  Deity 
was  considered  competent  to  cure  a  cold,  or  replace  a  dislocated 
shin-bone.  For  such  a  multiplicity  of  functions,  a  great  versatility 
of  talent,  I  am  sure,  was  required. 

In  respect  of  government,  it  is  conceded  that  they  had  hardly  any- 
thing deserving  the  name.  The  chief,  chosen  by  a  sort  of  tacit  con- 
sent, had  no  authority,  outside  of  war  contingencies.  Sometimes, 
however,  they  elected  civil  chiefs  who  could  exercise  advisory,  but 
not  mandatory  powers.  His  office  was  hereditary,  but  not  according 
to  primogeniture.  Might  was  right.  Law  they  had  none  ;  but  some 
customs  obtained  a  sort  of  binding  force.  The  doctrine  of  "  an  eye 
for  an  eye,  a  tooth  for  a  tooth,"  met  with  cordial  approval  and 
practical  enforcement.  While  divorce  was  at  the  option  of  the 
husband,  by  a  prevarication  or  inconsistency  of  justice,  the  adultery 
of  the  wife  was  duly  punished  by  taking  off  her  olfactory  organ. 
To  prevent  her  "nosing  round,"  I  suppose. 

Their  courage  was  invincible,  though  it  is  not  to  be  measured  by 
our  standards.  It  was  not  so  much  personal,  as  clannish,  and  the 
boldest  warrior  was  often  easily  cowed  if  isolated  from  his  friends. 

The  rights  of  property  were  but  dimly  discerned.  There  was 
generally  no  "  meum "  and  "  tuum,"  for  property  was  held  in 
common — in  most  tribes. 

Whence  did  the  redman  come  ?  We  have  heard  and  read  many 
theories  about  his  origin,  but  it  is  likely  we  shall  always  remain  in 
the  dark.  He  may  have  crossed  Behring's  Strait,  or,  like  Topsy  in 
Uncle  Tom's  Cabin,  he  may  have  simply  "  growed."  Who  can  tell  ? 
Are  they  the  dusky  children  of  Ishmael  ?  If  the  banished  Hagar  did 
not  "  see  her  boy  die,"  his  remote  offspring  doubtless  soon  will  be 
no  more.  Are  they  some  of  the  lost  tribes?  This  last  is  the 
Mormon  theory,  who  make  capital  use  of  it  in  preaching  to  the 
Indian  the  glorious  gospel  of  liberation  which  the  latter-day 
saints  are  commissioned  to  carry  to  the  dispersed  house  of  Israel. 
They  hold  that  the  emancipation  and  restoration  of  the  Indian  is 
their  own  peculiar  mission,  and  it  is  in  them,  and  by  them  and  their 
gospel,  that  the  final  salvation  and  conversion  of  the  Jews,  of  whom 
the  Indians  form  a  quota,  is  to  receive  its  accomplishment. 

Regarding  their  thievish  propensities,  a  near  relative  of  the  writer, 


33 

who  dwelt  for  some  time  in  the  Pi-Ute  Country,  tells  a  story  of  their 
singular  dexterity  and  adroitness  in  appropriating  other  people's 
property.  He  fell  asleep  in  his  blanket  on  the  open  plain  with  a 
brace  of  revolvers  by  his  side,  to  find  on  his  awakening  that  during 
somnolence  he  had  been  rolled  out  of  the  blanket,  and  both  blanket 
and  revolvers  stolen.  It  might  seem  a  pretty  strong  draft  on  our 
creduhty  to  gulp  down  the  narration,  did  we  not  know  as  a  matter 
of  fact  that  the  thieving  Bedouins  resort  to  the  practice  of  fanning 
the  unconscious  victim  to  deepen  sleep,  tickling  him  on  the  side  to 
cause  him  to  roll  over,  and  then  purloining  the  goods  which  for 
safety  he  slept  upon. 

As  we  have  just  hinted  at  the  interesting  question  concerning  the 
identity  of  the  American  Indians  with  the  children  of  Israel,  it  is 
not  less  pertinent  to  refer  to  the  very  prevalent  opinion  which  looks 
upon  the  Ancient  Aztecs  as  of  Shemitic  or  Hebraic  origin.  And  if 
similarity  of  feature  is  any  indication  of  racial  unity,  the  Aztecs  have 
a  much  stronger  claim  than  the  Indians  to  be  so  regarded. 

Those  of  our  readers  old  enough  to  call  to  mind  the  appearance 
of  the  Aztec  children  some  years  ago  exhibited  in  New  York  City, 
and  of  the  more  aged  couple  recently  produced  by  Bamum,  could 
not  fail  to  be  struck  at  the  startling  evidence  of  Hebrew  paternity, 
in  physiognomy,  physiology,  and  habit.  And  this  fact  sustains  the 
opinions  of  the  most  astute  ethnologists,  that  the  people  who  inhab- 
ited the  cities  of  the  Central  American  continent,  now  known  only 
by  their  monumental  ruins,  came  originally  from  the  other  conti- 
nent. We  have  here  strong  confirmation  of  the  Scriptural  teaching 
concerning  the  unity  of  the  human  race,  and  its  derivation  from  one 
common  parent. 

Dr.  Samuel  Mitchel  found  Greek  characters  upon  the  idols  dis- 
covered in  Central  America,  and  Dr.  Correy  says  :  "  There  is  no  doubt 
that  the  people  who  once  dwelt  in  these  cities — the  ancient  Aztec 
— were  composed  of  Phenicians,  Greeks,  Egyptians  and  Asiatics." 

Furthermore,  those  interesting  specimens  who  seem  to  have 
sprung,  phoenix-like,  from  the  ashes  of  a  bygone  time,  appear  as  if 
they  had  arisen  from  the  dead  to  convince  the  nineteenth  century 
that,  long  anterior  to  the  discovery  of  Columbus,  this  continent  was 
peopled  by  a  race,  civilized,  refined,  and  intelligent ;  for  although 
3 


34 

these  gifts  and  faculties  are  not  found  in  the  persons  now  before  us, 
we  behold  in  them  the  physiognomy  of  that  race  whose  features  are 
delineated  in  the  sculptures  which  modern  investigation  has  brought 
to  light,  and  these  are  the  features  of  a  people  who  have  left  behind 
them  more  than  sufficient  traces  to  show  that,  although  now  their 
grandeur  is  all  but  blotted  out,  they  had  once  attained  to  no  despic- 
able degree  of  art,  refinement,  and  civilization. 


IV. 

MORMONISM  AND  THE  GOVERNMENT. 

In  the  Forum  for  November,  1888,  George  Ticknor  Curtis 
writes  an  article  anent  the  much- vexed  Mormon  problem,  which 
abounds  in  strong  sense,  and  is  conspicuous  for  its  thorough  grasp 
of  the  whole  range  of  the  subject. 

We  have  not  had,  at  any  time,  so  enlightened  and  dispassionate  a 
view  of  this  threadbare  topic  from  any  man  of  importance,  nor  one 
which  so  completely  commends  itself  to  us  as  being  in  exact  accord 
with  our  own  personal  observation  and  experience. 

The  pest  of  polygamy  has  provoked  the  fiercest  denunciations 
from  men  of  all  shades  of  religious  belief  and  every  political  profes- 
sion ;  but  from  the  nature  of  the  case,  it  must  always  receive  its 
sternest  condemnation  from  the  Cathohc  Church,  which,  of  all  insti- 
tutions at  the  present  day,  alone  has  just  notions  of  the  marriage 
contract,  and,  perforce,  of  those  vices  which,  however  haJlowed  by 
the  name  of  religion  or  justified  by  a  mistaken  conscience,  are  yet 
counter  to  the  proper  adjustment  of  the  sexual  relations,  and  even 
perniciously  destructive  of  the  very  citadel  of  society — marriage  as 
it  should  be. 

For  all  that,  every  Catholic  is  a  lover  of  truth  and  justice,  and 
quite  partial  to  fair  play  ;  and  while  he  is  in  hearty  agreement  with 
Cardinal  Gibbons  when  he  puts  Mormonism,  or  rather  polygamy,  in 
the  pillory  as  the  great  plague-spot  of  our  American  civilization,  he 
yet  believes  in  the  force  of  that  old  adage  which  would  accord  to  a 
certain  sable  celebrity  that  which  of  right  belongs  to  him. 

When  the  question  of  suppressing  polygamy  first  took  firm  root  in 
the  American  mind,  and  the  extermination  of  the  evil  was  resolved 
upon  with  a  fiery  zeal,  which  well  could  have  been  tempered  a  little 
with  the  dew  of  discretion,  a  lot  of  judicial  Hotspurs  were  assigned 


36 

to  the  territory,  who  set  about  the  execution  of  their  commission 
with  an  almost  brutal  energy  and  resolution,  which  was  but  murder- 
ing justice  with  the  sword  of  law. 

All  Catholics  ma^  not  incline  to  agree  with  us  in  these  remarks, 
or  may  seem  to  think  we  talk  with  too  tolerant  a  voice  of  a  flagrant 
evil  which  cannot  be  too  soon  suppressed.  Of  course,  no  sincere 
and  honest  man  can  give  tolerance  to  pernicious  error,  but  we  think 
it  becomes  Catholics  to  view  with  criticaJ  eye  the  methods  that  are 
employed  to  see  if  they  answer  the  demands  of  justice,  and  whether 
also  they  may  not  be  a  kind  of  boomerang  some  day  to  shoot  back 
upon  ourselves. 

In  the  first  place,  we  submit  that  it  is  small  matter  for  marvel  that 
the  Mormon  mind  was  slow  to  be  convinced  of  the  sincere  purpose 
and  propriety  of  conduct  of  those  who  came  to  teach  them  the  ways 
of  virtue,  and  drive  them  into  dungeons  if  they  would  not  swallow, 
without  a  qualm,  the  governmental  nostrum  for  morality,  and  at  the 
same  time  sought  to  introduce,  and  did  introduce  among  the  citizens 
of  Deseret,  an  institution  which  we,  without  being  grossly  offensive 
to  the  refinement  of  our  readers,  may  not  name.  It  was  the  old  and 
just  retort,  "Physician,  heal  thyself."  Of  the  truth  of  the  charges 
against  these  legalized  and  official  reformers,  we  have  had  ample  and 
unimpeachable  evidence,  supplemented  by  the  testimony  of  one  who, 
for  fifteen  years,  had  labored  amongst  them,  and  who  is  now  a  prelate 
of  the  Catholic  Church.  He  spoke  to  me  of  the  integrity  and  probity 
of  the  Mormon  people  ;  of  their  spirit  of  toleration  and  good  will 
towards  Catholics  ;  of  their  comparative  freedom  from  vice,  setting 
aside  their  polygamous  practices.  Their  thrift  and  industry  were 
everywhere  apparent.  They  possessed  the  magic  art  of  "  making  the 
wilderness  to  blossom  as  the  rose."  At  no  time  had  they  had  living 
in  polygamy  a  portion  of  their  number  exceeding  ten  per  cent. 
Although,  as  Artemus  Ward  said,  "their  religion  is  singular,  and 
their  wives  are  plural,"  the  plurality,  except  in  a  few  cases,  never 
passed  beyond  two  or  three. 

These  few  points  I  mention  merely  to  furnish  a  clue  to  the  amount 
of  exaggeration  put  in  print  upon  the  subject. 

But  let  us  look  at  the  principles  by  which  the  government  seeks  to 
justify  the  suppression  of  this  people's  practices,  and  see  if  they  are 
not  a  little  dangerous  and  menacing  to  the  liberty  of  Catholics. 


37 

Be  it  remembered  that  the  Mormons  held  to  polygamy  as  a  religi- 
ous doctrine,  and  one  of  the  revealed  tenets  of  their  peculiar  faith. 
It  matters  not,  for  the  present  pui-pose,  whether  they  are  hugging  a 
delusion,  or  whether  they  are  truly  the  "  Latter-day  Saints."  Their 
sincerity  in  many  instances  did  not  admit  of  doubt.  Agreeably  to 
their  belief  that  polygamy  was  enjoined  on  them  by  conscience  in- 
formed by  the  revealed  law,  they  at  once  contested  the  constitution- 
ality of  the  law,  whereby  the  government  sought  to  kill  what  it 
regarded  as  morally  monstrous,  on  the  alleged  interference  of  such 
enactment  with  the  liberty  of  the  individual  conscience,  and  its,  to 
them,  obvious  opposition  to  the  words  and  tenor  of  the  law  of  the 
country.  "  O  bediendum  est  Deo  potius  quam  hominibus,"  said  they. 
With  the  fallacious  character  of  this  claim,  we  have  now  and  here  no 
concern.  Enough  that  it  was  made,  and  made,  as  we  beUeve,  in  sober 
earnestness  and  subjective  truth.  "Fudge  and  faddle,"  says  the 
government;  "  your  morality  is  vice,  and  your  reUgion  rhodomontade. 
And  what  do  we  care  for  your  conscience  ?  And  at  all  events,  we  are 
the  keepers  and  custodians  of  that  conscience." 

"  Come  to  me,"  says  the  Mormon;  "  come  in  the  spirit  of  the  gospel, 
and  point  out  the  eiTor  I  have  embraced,  and  I  will  at  once  reject  it." 
And  so  the  grave  and  hoary-headed  senators  from  the  land  of  steady 
habits  and  exploded  Puritanism  undertook  the  mighty  task,  and  in 
their  lofty  speeches  rummaged  the  Inspired  Word  from  Genesis  to 
St.  Paul,  to  show  the  world  what  warrant  they  had  for  the  scotching 
of  Mormonism  with  the  weapon  of  Scriptural  sanction.  And  thus  the 
government  makes  itself  the  censor  of  morals  and  the  teacher  of 
religion.  To  show  that  Monnonism  was  against  revealed  religion, 
they  were  compelled,  in  a  measure,  to  define  religion,  and  this  was 
an  undoubted  violation  of  the  spirit  of  the  civil  constitution. 

There  are  many  of  the  doctrines  of  Catholicity  as  much  opposed, 
in  the  opinion  of  these  statesmen,  to  the  law  of  the  gospel  and  the 
law  of  the  land  as  is  Mormon  polygamy. 

The  effort  of  the  sagacious  New  England  senators  to  convict  Mor- 
monism of  immorality  from  an  appeal  to  Scripture  was  foredoomed 
to  merited  failure.  As  expositors  of  revelation  they  were  not  a  signal 
success.  However  skilled  in  secular  science  and  familiar  with  the 
sinuous  ways  of  politics,  they  proved  but  sorry  novices  at  their  new 
employment.     And  then  the  attempt  to  belabor  Mormonism  with 


38 

such  weighty  weapons  in  untried  hands  was  doomed  to  be  abortive, 
from  the  superior  skill  in  that  method  of  argument  of  those  against 
whom  it  was  invoked.  To  bear  the  Bible  to  Salt  Lake  was  but  "  to 
carry  coals  to  Newcastle,"  or  bricks  to  Haverstraw.  Like  Timothy, 
the  Mormon  had  been  versed  in  Scripture  and  biblical  lore  of  every 
kind  from  his  youth.  He  could  roll  it  off  in  reams  at  any  random 
call.  He  challenged  controversy,  he  courted  polemics  in  any  Script- 
ural field  with  the  complacent  assurance  of  a  combatant  conscious  of 
success.  Nor  could  he  be  persuaded  that  the  senatorial  toga  carried 
with  it  any  authority  to  interpret  Holy  Writ  in  a  sense  antagonistic 
to  his  own  understanding  of  the  Sacred  Volume.  And  he  demanded 
from  the  government,  as  a  religious  teacher,  those  credentials  and 
that  commission  of  authority  which  no  government  on  earth  can  give. 

Just  here  I  beg  to  be  permitted  to  indulge  a  hypothesis,  and  pro- 
pound a  question  which  was  put  to  me,  and  answered,  as  I  shall  pres- 
ently give  answer,  by  a  discreet  and  erudite  Prelate  in  the  West.  It 
is  this  : — 

If,  to-morrow,  the  legislative  power  of  the  nation  should  conceive 
it  expedient  to  proscribe  Catholicity,  or  any  portion  of  it,  because  of 
its  putative  hostility  to  the  American  spirit  and  the  established  order 
of  affairs  in  this  free  country  ;  and  if  the  legislators  are  allowed  to 
consider  it  within  their  competence  to  appeal  to  Holy  Writ,  and  upon 
their  deductions  therefrom  found  proscriptive  legislation,  what  is 
there  to  prevent  them  from  successfully  adopting  these  same  lines  to 
compass  a  purpose  which  would  be  a  cause  of  joy  to  many  of  them, 
and  of  hard  calamity  to  us  ?     Nothing. 

Finding  it  impossible  to  condemn  polygamy  out  of  the  mouth  of 
the  Old  Law,  all  at  variance  as  to  the  meaning  of  the  New,  and  com- 
pelled to  submit  to  the  Mormons'  defiant  taunt  that  they  could  not 
establish  its  contrariety  to  the  law  of  nature,  these  sapient  law-makers 
found  themselves  self -impaled  upon  the  horns  of  a  most  disastrous 
dilemma;  for  to  surrender  this  line  of  argument  was  to  confess  defeat, 
and  displease  a  puritanical  constituency  (and  oh !  the  irony  of  fate, 
many  of  the  Puritans  have  become  Mormons),  and  to  follow  it  out 
was  to  fail  in  attaining  what  was  wanted. 

In  1879,  after  many  years'  connivance,  or  at  least  toleration,  of 
polygamy,  the  aid  of  the  Supreme  Court  was  invoked,  which,  declar- 
ing marriage  to  be  a  purely  civil  contract,  defined  it  to  be  of  the 


39 

essence  of  the  contract,  that  the  consent  should  pass  between  two 
persons,  and  two  persons  only,  in  a  simultaneous  union,  and  therefore 
within  the  sphere  of  the  state  to  punish  polygamy,  or  multiplex  mar- 
riage of  the  simultaneous  character,  as  a  crime  against  the  law. 

It  should  be  observed  that,  while  Catholics  are  in  hearty  agreement 
with  the  learned  judge  who  rendered  this  decision  as  to  his  conclu- 
sion, they  do  not,  and  cannot,  concede  that  assumed  premise  which 
characterizes  marriage  as  a  purely  civil  contract.  And  if  the  state, 
regarding  marriage  as  a  civil  relation  only,  may  prescribe  its  con- 
ditions, its  limitations,  and  its  very  nature,  which  in  truth  is  the  logi- 
cal sequence  of  such  presumption,  it  fails  me  utterly  to  conceive  why 
Catholics,  while  chiming  in  with  the  common  anti-Mormon  cry,  view 
as  a  remote,  or  even  impossible  contingency,  the  interference  of  the 
state  with  their  own  sacred  institutions  of  Christian  mamage. 

It  is  foreign  to  my  purpose  to  pursue  this  discussion  fiu'ther.  I 
have  no  other  aim  than  to  open  some  debate  upon  the  question.  I 
acutely  realize  that  this  is  a  large  topic,  closely  akin  to  many  cognate 
subjects.  It  involves  the  difficult  subject  of  toleration;  of  liberty  of 
conscience;  of  freedom  of  worship;  of  state  interference  with  estab- 
lished forms  of  religion.  Is  it  the  office  of  the  state  to  determine 
when  a  man  is  a  fanatic  and  the  dupe  of  a  disordered  imagination, 
and  when  he  is  not  ?  When  his  religion  is  true,  and  when  it  is  false  ? 
How  shall  it  attain  its  design — by  an  appeal  to  Sacred  Writ,  or  to 
the  common  conscience,  which  ? 

It  may  be  said  the  state  cannot  tolerate  crime,  or  that  which  would 
subvert  its  own  existence  and  the  existence  of  society.  True,  but  in 
the  concrete,  men  will  not  concur  as  to  what  is  criminal  and  thus  in- 
imical to  society,  and  what  is  the  contrary.  If  we  cannot  show  that 
polygamy  is  in  conflict  with  the  fiiist  and  evident  principles  of  the 
natural  law,  as,  indeed,  we  cannot,  I  respectfully  beg  to  be  informed 
how  some  can  howl  for  its  suppression,  not  as  a  matter  of  social 
policy,  but  as  if  it  stood  in  the  same  category  with  murder,  theft,  and 
robbery.  To  a  reasonable  man,  who  says  and  thinks  he  has  the  Word 
of  God  as  the  sanction  of  his  practices,  I  must  show  that  he  is  wrong 
before  I  cast  the  stone  of  condemnation  on  his  head.  If  he  is  not 
reasonable  I  should  convince  the  world  of  the  fact,  that  he  may  be 
confined  as  too  dangerous  to  roam  at  large. 

I  am  daily  becoming  more  convinced  that  there  is  hardly  a  ques- 


40 

tion  of  morality  wliicli  can  be  definitely  detei*mined  without  the  aid 
and  intervention  of  that  supreme  authority  to  whom  was  given  the 
commission  to  teach  all  things.  For  what  the  natural  law  leaves 
undetermined,  and  what  revelation  will  not  decide  because  of  the 
perversity  or  incapacity  of  the  human  heart  in  understanding,  the 
Catholic  Church  makes  plain  as  the  noon-day  sun. 

To  those  who  have  enough  interest  in  this  matter  to  follow  it 
another  interesting  step,  I  would  commend  the  reading  of  Judge 
Curtis'  article  in  the  Forum,  in  which  he  animadverts  with  some 
severity  upon  the  iniquitous  workings  of  the  Edmunds  law  of  '82, 
and  which,  for  obvious  reasons,  I  would  wish  to  here  transcribe. 

I  would  fain  not  be  misunderstood  in  what  I  have  said  about 
polygamy.  I  am  not  defending  it,  nor  those  who  practice  it,  but  I 
am  disposed  to  question  the  legitimacy  of  the  methods,  and  even  of 
some  of  the  principles  employed  for  its  suppression  among  Mormons. 
Nor  can  I  agree  with  Rev.  Joseph  Rickaby,  S.  J.,  when  he  makes  it 
to  appear  that  the  case  against  polygamy  by  the  law  of  nature  is 
almost  as  strong  as  that  against  polyandry. 

Uhi  tu  Caius,  ego  Caia,  "  where  thou  art  master,  I  am  mistress,'^ 
which  the  Roman  bride  said  to  her  bridegroom,  expresses,  indeed, 
the  true  standing  of  the  woman  in  the  home  and  family.  But  to 
establish  this  prerogative  for  the  wife  beyond  cavil  or  doubt,  and  to 
withdraw  her  from  the  dominion  of  man's  unruly  passions,  is  accom- 
plished, not  so  much  by  the  law  of  nature,  as  by  the  light  of  revela- 
tion explained  and  enforced  by  the  Catholic  Church. 

It  did  not  surprise  me,  therefore,  to  hear  an  intelligent  Mormon 
challenge  the  agnostic  IngersoU,  in  the  Mormon  temple  at  Salt  Lake, 
to  make  good  the  assertion  that  polygamy  was  in  conflict  with  the 
natural  law  ;  a  challenge,  I  am  s«ire,  which  "  slippery  Bob,"  with  his 
usual  adroitness,  prudently  evaded. 

Concerning  the  confiscation  of  the  Mormon  church  property  by  the 
government,  I  shall  speak  in  another  article,  when  I  come  to  deal 
with  their  checkered  history  and  fanatical  religion. 


Y. 

POLITICS  AND  PARTIES. 

The  proximate  approach  of  an  election  of  transcendent  importance 
is  what  inspires  the  crude  reflections  which  we  have  to  offer  on  the 
subject  which  we  have  selected. 

It  is  a  common  fallacy,  advanced  in  support  of  apathy  and  indo- 
lence, that  a  man  may  stand  indifferent  to  political  transactions  with- 
out lesion  to  his  conscience  or  deviation  from  his  duty.  To  refute  & 
conclusion  so  obviously  erroneous  and  untenable  will  perhaps  appear 
as  the  "  threshing  of  old  straw."  And  yet  it  may  not  be  wholly  void 
of  profit. 

If  patriotism  is  a  virtue,  no  man  can  well  afford  to  discount  it  as  a 
bagatelle.  And  how  can  any  man  pride  himself  on  his  patriotism 
who  carries  himself  with  cold  apathy  and  supine  negligence  in  respect 
of  the  pubUc  politics  of  his  time  and  country  ?  For  on  the  princi- 
ples, methods,  and  conduct  of  poHtics  the  common  weal  is  safely 
grounded,  or  surely  wrecked  and  stranded.  To  deny  it  were  to  "  bay 
the  moon." 

Man  is  the  factor  of  which  society  is  the  product.  Man  is  the  unit; 
society  the  composite.  As  there  is  no  society  without  men,  so  neither 
can  men  exist  without  society.  They  wither,  perish,  die.  For  as 
the  vine  clings  to  the  oak,  so  does  man  on  society,  but  in  much  closer 
relation  than  that  announced  by  our  analogy.  The  very  essence  of 
personality,  it  is  true,  implies  segregation.  Every  man  is  what  he  is^ 
is  what  he  holds  within  the  four  fleshy  walls  of  his  person,  whether 
he  mix  with  the  multitude,  or  sit  soKtary  like  Alexander  Selkirk  on 
the  island  of  Juan  Fernandez.  Individuality  is  not  absorped  in  society. 
A  brass  wall  of  demarcation  impassably  defined  hedges  round  the 
identity  of  each,  and  holds  the  myriad  from  tramping  him  down. 
Yet  independence  is  not  inconsistent  with  dependence,  and  indepen- 


42 

dence  destroys  not  sociality.  We  live  in  others  as  well  as  in  our- 
selves, "for  no  man  liveth  or  dieth  unto  himself."  As  Dr.  Johnson 
has  it,  "  man  is  a  clubbable  animal/' 

Society  has  no  existence  without  government,  for,  "  if  all  were  the 
Tiody,  where  would  the  head  be,"  and  if  all  head,  where  would  the 
members  have  place  ?  To  rule,  and  be  ruled;  to  govern,  and  be  gov- 
erned; to  command,  and  be  obeyed,  is  of  the  essence  of  society;  and 
any  aggregation  of  men  without  this  distinction  of  parts,  and  variety  of 
functions,  call  it  association,  call  it  intercourse,  call  it  what  you  please,  it 
is  not  society.  Now,  society  must  not  only  exist,  but  it  must  exist  well 
and  vigorously.  It  must  not  vegetate,  but  live.  The  blood  must  not 
merely  fill  the  veins,  but  must  also  pulsate  in  the  proper  channels. 
And  of  such  society  as  this,  the  support  and  foundation  is  good  gov- 
ernment ;  on  the  skill  and  competence  of  the  pilot  depends  the 
safety  of  the  ship  ;  the  hand  at  the  helm  is  the  one  that  guides  it  into 
port. 

But  the  stream  is  not  purer  than  its  source;  light  is  not  more  radiant 
than  the  sun. 

But  government  is  guided  by  men,  men  are  guided  by  principles, 
and  do  not,  and  cannot,  rise  above  the  principles  of  which  they 
make, profession.  A  man  may  be  better  than  his  conduct,  but  never 
better  than  his  principles.  An  occasional  obliquity  bespeaks  not 
total  depravity.  And  what  is  politics  but  the  reduction  of  principles 
to  their  practical  application  in  the  science  and  art  of  government  ? 
Obviously,  therefore,  it  is  a  matter  of  pith  and  moment  to  the  well- 
being  of  society  whether  men  deport  themselves  with  listless  indiffer- 
ence, or  with  active  concern  in  the  transactions  of  the  political  arena. 
And  this  on  a  double  score,  to  wit :  with  respect  to  principles  and 
with  respect  to  men.  For,  aside  from  the  man  in  whom  the  princi- 
ple is  to  find  its  embodiment  and  concretion,  the  principle  is  only  an 
airy  abstraction  of  no  more  potency  in  effect  than  the  crack  of  an 
unloaded  pop-gun. 

Every  citizen,  therefore,  having  present  to  mind  the  consciousness 
of  his  duty  and  the  will  to  discharge  it,  is  in  thoughts,  and  feelings, 
and  attitude  keenly  alive  to  the  political  affairs  of  his  country.  It  is 
his  constant  aim  to  secure  the  adoption  of  such  principles  as  are 
sound  and  wholesome  in  the  operations  and  plans  of  government,  as 
it  is  his  uniform  effort  to  choose,  or  have  chosen,  men  of  such  char- 


43 

acter  and  capacity  as  shall  put  in  living  practice  the  principles  that 
meet  his  approval.  And  this  is  a  moral  duty  which  he  cannot  elude 
without  lesion  to  his  conscience,  and  which  he  cannot  forego  without 
endangering  his  country. 

How  is  he  to  meet  the  emergency  ?  Much  depends  on  the  methods 
in  vogue  and  the  systems  of  government  that  obtain  in  his  case. 

In  our  own  favored  republic,  the  whole  machinery  of  government 
turns  on  the  pivot  of  party.  It  were  perhaps  more  desirable  to  dis- 
cover some  method  less  subject  than  party  to  the  wiles  and  intrigues 
of  clap-trap  mouthers  and  unscrupulous  demagogues,  who,  as  Frank- 
lin would  say,  in  all  their  professions  of  disinterested  love  for  their 
countrymen,  have  only  a  personal  axe  to  grind,  and  an  iU-concealed 
greed  to  bring  grist  to  their  own  miUs.  But  no  social  philosopher, 
no  man  skilled  in  state-craft,  no  man,  as  Horace  has  it  "juris  legum- 
que  peritus,"  has  yet  been  able  to  evolve  from  his  labors  any  method 
of  sufficient  adaptability  to  supplant  the  party  system  in  the  opera- 
tions of  a  free  and  democratic  government. 

Consonantly,  therefore,  to  this  admitted  premise,  whoever  would 
wish  to  make  his  influence  felt  in  the  conduct  of  public  affairs  has 
no  other  road  open  to  the  attainment  of  his  end  than  that  which  lies 
through  the  affihations  of  party.  Willy  nilly,  if  he  has  no  wish  to 
count  as  a  cipher  in  the  body  politic,  he  must  don  the  habiliments 
of  party  and  become,  according  to  the  wisdom  of  his  choice,  demo- 
crat or  republican;  granger  or  prohibitionist ;  laborite,  socialist,  or 
native  American.     This  contention  is  iiTesistible. 

But  to  belong  to  a  party  does  not  make  man  a  partisan  any  more 
than  to  stand  in  a  stable  would  make  him  a  horse.  The  question 
presents  itself,  however,  to  what  extent  is  he  bound  by  the  claims  of 
party  in  the  exercise  of  his  franchise  ?  It  is,  as  Horace  Greeley  used 
to  remark,  a  mighty  interesting  question,  and  this  the  more  so  that 
many  brand  any  desertion  of  party  as  the  most  truculent  treason. 
He  is  looked  on  in  the  unenviable  light  of  a  political  Judas,  and  per- 
haps they  may  think  it  were  better  he  had  never  been  born.  But  is 
a  man  to  be  the  abject  slave  of  party?  Dare  he  call  his  soul  his 
own  ?  Does  a  party  pre-empt  its  adherents  so  as  to  own  them  body 
and  bones  ?  That  it  has  certain  claims  on  them  is  not  to  be  gain- 
said ;  but  what  is  the  scope  of  the  claims  ? 

Man,  to  fulfill  the  duties  of  citizenship,  is  constrained  to  connect 


44 

himself  with  some  form  of  party,  and  hence  the  first  and  most  para- 
mount duty  is  that  of  selection  or  choice.  It  is  perfuming  the  violet 
to  say  that  this  choice  will  be,  as  it  ought  to  be,  the  result  of  his  de- 
liberate judgment  and  conscientious  conviction.  It  will  be  made  in 
the  light  of  conscience  and  common  sense. 

Viewed  according  to  abstract  considerations,  this  choice  will  be 
made  according  to  a  man's  notions  of  the  propriety  and  the  perfec- 
tions of  the  principles  professed  by  the  party,  as  they  have  reference 
to  good  government,  and  the  security  and  prosperity  of  the  country 
under  their  application. 

The  choice  once  made,  does  it  claim  the  obligation  of  fealty  and 
adhesion  to  the  party  pitched  upon  by  the  citizen  ?  Assuredly,  for 
the  obligation  of  consistency  is  incumbent  on  every  man,  and  how 
can  a  man,  without  self-stultification,  turn  lightly  aside  from  the 
rational  result  of  his  investigation,  and  recede  from  the  judicial  stand 
that  he  took  when  he  fettered  himself  with  the  gyves  of  his  party  ? 

And  yet  there  is  no  implication  in  all  this  that  a  man  is  to  be  for- 
ever trammelled  by  a  judgment  made  at  some  period  past. 

There  is  nothing  permanent  under  the  sun.  The  times  change, 
and  we,  not  to  be  odd,  change  with  them.  Political  parties  are  no 
honored  exception.  Principles,  they  tell  us,  do  not  change,  but 
parties  change  their  principles,  correct  and  amend  them.  The  doc- 
trine sworn  by  yesterday  is  discarded  on  the  morrow.  Besides, 
princijDles  remaining  the  same,  the  personnel  of  the  party  may  alter. 
The  river  goes  on  forever,  but  men  may  and  do  come  and  go.  They 
not  only  come  and  go,  but  often  when  they  stay  it  is  only  to  grow 
worse.  The  rolling  stone  gathers  no  moss,  but  the  resting  stone  may 
lie  so  long  as  to  be  but  little  else  than  moss.  Thus  men  may  abide 
in  power  so  long  as  to  be  infected  with  the  dry-rot  of  corruption 
and  malfeasance. 

These  things  being  so,  who  that  has  sound  sense  under  his  cap 
will  advance  the  doctrine  that  a  man  is  bound  to  stick  by  his  party  ? 
He  is  bound  to  stick  by  his  conscience;  he  is  bound  to  cleave  to  his 
religion.  What  if  he  has  made  choice  of  this  party  ?  Perhaps  the 
party  has  changed  and  perchance  has  forsaken  its  principles.  Maybe 
it  so  long  fattened  on  the  public  crib,  so  long  rioted  in  the  pap  of  the 
people,  that  its  insufferable  insolence  needs  rebuke,  and  its  sordid 
and  mercenary  conduct  correction.    New  exigencies  may  have  arisen 


45 

and  a  new  set  of  principles,  represented  by  a  new  party,  may  be  re- 
quired to  meet  them. 

Is  a  man  then  to  be  restrained  from  transferring  his  allegiance 
from  one  party  to  another  whether  temporarily  or  ^permanently  as 
the  occasion  requires,  because  at  one  time  he  thought  it  prudent  to 
call  himself  a  democrat  or  a  republican,  or  even  a  mugwump  ? 

It  may  be  hardly  necessary  to  obsei've  that  these  remarks  are 
wholly  impersonal  and  abstract  in  their  nature,  for  they  are  not 
the  frothings  of  a  professional  politician. 

Though  the  writer  has  his  preference  for  party,  and  will  always 
have  it,  agreeably  to  his  convictions,  on  the  line  indicated  in  this 
article,  he  commands  none  in  particular,  but  believes  it,  in  the  pres- 
ent arrangement  and  constitution  of  politics,  the  perspicuous  duty  of 
every  man  possessed  of  the  right  to  cast  the  weight  of  his  suffrage 
and  all  his  political  fortune  on  the  side  of  some  particular  party,  so 
long  as  it  meets  the  approval  of  his  reason  and  conscience.  AVhich 
that  party  shall  be,  let  his  deliberations  determine,  but  let  it  be  al- 
ways remembered  that  the  ethical  element  cannot  be  sifted  out  of 
the  question.  The  free,  honest,  and  intelligent  use  of  the  ballot  is 
the  basis  of  good  government,  and  good  government  is  indispensable 
to  "  life,  liberty,  and  the  pursuit  of  happiness."  Whoever,  then, 
loves  himself,  loves  his  country,  loves  the  welfare  of  society ;  who- 
ever loves  the  means  whereby  the  blessings  of  civil  liberty,  social 
order,  and  national  prosperity  are  perpetuated  and  preserved  ;  who- 
ever deems  it  a  desideratum  that  fit  candidates  should  be  selected  for 
the  suffrage  of  their  fellow-citizens,  not  for  the  votes  they  can  com- 
mand, but  for  capacity  and  moral  worth  ;  whoever  wishes  that  our 
legislative  halls  should  not  become  the  receptacle  of  ruffianism,  im- 
morality, infamous  venality  ;  whoever,  in  fine,  desires  to  breathe  the 
air  and  the  genial  sunshine  of  a  free,  independent,  and  enviable 
citizenship  in  a  republican  society,  will  not  stand  off  in  solitary  pride 
or  frigid  sense  of  self-superiority  that  decrees  all  politics  as  of  satanic 
institution,  but  will  awake  from  his  slumbers,  buckle  on  his  armor, 
and  with  the  conviction  that  moral  force  still  rules  the  world,  in  gov- 
ernment and  out  of  it,  and  the  holy  resolution  that  he  shall  always 
do  what  he  can  to  maintain  the  supremacy  thereof,  will  take  his 
place  in  the  primary  where  men  are  set  up  to  stand  or  be  knocked 
down  on  the  judgment-day  of  election,  when  he  will  proudly  go  to 
the  polls  and  put  his  ballot  where  it  will  do  the  most  good. 


VI. 
SABBATARIANISM  AND  AMUSEMENTS. 

The  New  York  Sun,  in  a  carefully  considered  article,  punctures 
with  the  keen  lancet  of  its  logic  the  pharisaical  pretensions  of  those 
self-righteous  Sabbatarians  who  would  fain  push  back  the  hand  on 
the  dial  of  progress  a  moiety  of  a  century  or  two  until  it  struck  the 
rigid  notch  of  effete  and  antiquated  Puritanism.  With  one  incisive 
stroke  the  Sun  cuts  off  their  curious  claim  to  a  distinctively  Ameri- 
can Sabbath.  It  would  appear  as  if  these  sour-faced  ministers 
regarded  Cotton  Mather,  instead  of  Christ  our  Lord,  as  the  insti- 
tutor  of  the  Christian  Sunday.  This  need  not  excite  our  great 
astonishment  when  we  reflect  that,  with  the  Bible  only  as  their  yard- 
stick of  belief,  they  have  utterly  no  warrant  for  the  consecration  of 
Sunday,  preferably  to  any  other  day,  to  the  worship  of  our  Lord 
and  Saviour. 

The  harsh  and  repressive  measures  which  they  would  invoke  for 
the  extinction  of  all  Sunday  recreation,  whether  innocent  or  other- 
wise, are  in  strict  accordance  with  the  rules  of  the  old  Calvinistic 
creeds. 

These  men  sadly  misconceive  the  spirit  of  the  gospel,  as  at  the 
same  time  they  degrade  our  human  nature,  which,  in  their  opinion, 
must  be  fettered  and  stripped  of  all  its  freedom  before  it  can 
attempt  to  pay  any  homage  to  its  Maker. 

The  essence  of  divine  worship  does  not  consist  in  a  slavish  sub- 
serviency which  would  escheat  us  of  the  use  of  those  physical  facul- 
ties which  God's  bounty  has  bestowed  upon  us.  There  is  no  sort  of 
religious  frost  in  the  Sunday  air  to  congeal  the  blood  within  our 
bodies,  and  no  bale  in  the  Sunday  sunshine  to  put  upon  us  the  uncon- 
genial restraint  of  keeping  within  doors,  "  cribbed,  cabined  and  con- 
fined," with  nothing  to  do  but  chant  hymns  with  a  sad  and  pensive 


47 

but  holy  monotony  all  the  day  long.  "  To  him  who  in  the  love  of 
nature  holds  communion  with  her  visible  forms  she  speaks  a  various 
language";  and  she  talks  to  him  on  Sunday  with  the  same  sweet 
voice  that  awakes  music  in  a  soul  attuned  to  nature's  harmonies,  as 
on  any  other  of  God's  good  days.  Shall  the  cant,  then,  of  these 
hypochondriacal  gentlemen  deprive  us  of  our  innocent  Sunday 
amusement  ?  Ai'e  we,  forsooth,  in  deference  to  them,  to  forego  our 
outdoor  recreation,  the  bright  skies,  the  green  fields,  and  the  glad 
sunshine  ?    May  heaven  f oref  end ! 

"  Some  people,"  says  Tom  Hood,  "  think  they  are  pious,  and  they 
are  only  bilious."  The  advocates  of  such  strait-laced  observ- 
ance of  the  Sunday  are  simply  hypochondriacs.  Their  minds  are 
dazed  with  the  most  splenetic  vapors,  the  result,  not  so  much,  per- 
haps, of  Calvinistic  theology,  as  of  melancholia.  Melancholia  is  an 
uncanny  affliction.  We  heard  once  of  a  poor  victim,  who,  after 
ringing  the  round  of  every  mad  conceit  that  ever  toi-mented  a  crazy 
brain,  at  last  fancied  himself  a  teapot.  The  ministers  we  are  de- 
scribing are  theological  teapots.  Now  they  are  in  the  throes  of 
ebullition,  but  they  will  soon  simmer  down,  and,  like  boiled  coffee, 
settle  down  on  their  own  grounds.  They  would  proscribe  laughter 
even,  I  believe,  but  the  world  will  only  laugh  at  them  the  more. 

As  for  us,  give  us  the  cheerful,  happy  man.  He  is  the  true 
Christian.  Solomon  tried  mirth,  and  it  was  mad  ;  wine,  and  it  was 
folly ;  but  it  was  so  because  he  disregarded  the  right  measure  of 
enjoyment.  Extremes  are  always  dangerous  ;  but,  for  our  part,  we 
dread  the  drawling  hypocrite  more  than  we  do  the  voluptuary. 
Yes,  give  us  the  man  who  likes  to  amuse  himself,  as  well  as  see 
others  amused,  every  day  in  the  week.  We  abhor  the  man  who  has 
no  Sunday  laugh. 

"  Let  me  have  men  about  me  that  are  fat ; 
Sleek-headed  men,  and  such  as  sleep  o'  nights  ; 
Yon  Cassius  has  a  lean  and  hungry  look  ; 
He  thinks  too  much  :  such  men  are  dangerous." 

Thus  spake  the  bard  of  Julius  Csesar,  and  Caesar,  in  the  mind  of 
Shakespeare,  was  a  man  of  wisdom. 

And  if  Csesar  lived  to-day  he  would  order  off  to  a  warmer  cHmate 
beyond  the  antipodes  the  cloud-covered,  cold,  and  calculating  crea- 


48 

tures,  who,  through  an  ostentatious  show  of  mock  morality,  or 
because  of  some  heart-eating  canker  in  their  soul,  plod  along  with 
noses  on  the  pavement,  shunning  all  amusement  themselves  and 
frowning  it  down  in  others. 

Show  us  the  man,  who,  no  matter  how  lofty  his  station  in  life, 
can  unbend  betimes,  and  let  loose  the  strings  of  his  heart  in  a  vein 
of  jollity,  and  we  will  show  you  one  *'  whose  word  is  his  bond," 
"  whose  oaths  are  oracles,"  and  who,  no  matter  how  scantily  he  is 
provisioned  with  the  dross  of  earthly  gold,  has  always  a  penny  for 
the  poor  and  an  odd  trifle  to  bestow 

"For  sweet  charity's  sake." 

It  is  a  fixed  principle  in  man's  nature  that,  if  he  would  be  happy, 
he  must  secure  a  little  relaxation  from  the  drudgery  of  his  daily 
toil  and  everyday  duties.  The  "  demnition  grind  "  will  soon  pulverize 
the  hardest  nature.  Amusements  are  the  spice  of  life  ;  oases  in  the 
desert  of  existence  ;  flowing  fountains  of  public  and  individual 
good.  And,  therefore,  those  misanthropic  divines  who  would  elim- 
inate those  springs  of  felicity  and  rational  enjoyment  from  our 
social  code  are  only  making  a  task  and  burden  of  religion  and 
estranging  thousands  who  elsewise  had  given  it  their  adherence. 
Music,  dancing,  and  acting,  as  we  know,  have  been  employed  as 
auxiliary  to  religion,  and  the  latter,  which  had  its  origin  in  the 
Church,  notably  in  the  old  miracle  plays,  was  long  its  most  power- 
ful auxiliary.  These  things  are  not  profane  ;  only  their  perversion 
is  condemnable. 


YII. 
PROGRESS  AND  THE  CATHOLIC  CHURCH. 

Chapter  I. — I:nteoductioi^. 

Some  recent  phases  of  political  affairs  have  attracted  the  attention 
of  many  who  aspire  to  mould,  if  not  to  lead,  thought  and  opinion  to 
the  attitude  of  the  Catholic  Church  towards  questions  with  which 
progress,  society,  and  civilization  have  a  vital  and  necessary  concern. 
The  thinkers  and  the  speakers  of  tbe  class  in  question  have  set  foiih 
a  variety  of  views  upon  the  subject.  Some  have  animadverted,  with 
unmeasured  severity,  upon  what  they  chose  to  designate  the  med- 
dlesome, intolerant,  and  unprogressive  character  of  the  Church,  that 
rests  upon  the  rock  of  Peter,  and  these  condemn  and  repudiate  her 
as  an  antiquated  fossil,  devoid  of  value,  except  it  be  to  call  foiih 
curiosity  ;  as  a  clog  on  the  wheels  of  progress,  an  unwieldy  weight 
upon  the  spring  of  all  material  movement,  and  a  dead-wall  that 
cumbers  the  onward  course  of  enlightened  civilization.  To  these 
she  is  the  monster  that  manacles  the  human  mind,  the  implacable 
foe  of  freedom,  the  vampire  that  sucks  the  blood  of  individuality, 
the  enemy  of  enterprise,  industry,  thought,  and  action,  who  casts 
her  gyves  on  genius,  fetters  intellect  and  annihilates  advancement, 
whether  social,  moral,  or  material.  A  second  camp  of  critics  affect 
to  draw  a  broad  but  evident  distinction  between  the  divine  and  the 
human  element  in  her  constitution,  between  the  individuals  that 
compose  her  and  her  organic  structure,  as  a  complete  institution 
and  society,  and  while  professing  to  respect  the  latter,  wage  a 
bitter  war  against  what  they  are  pleased  to  regard  as  the  unwar- 
ranted interference  of  ecclesiasticism  in  affairs  outside  the  sphere  of 
its  competence.  With  these  we  have  no  contention,  not  because  of 
our  concurrence  with  their  strictures,  but  because  it  is  not  to  our 
4 


50 

present  purpose.  We  seek  neither  to  defend  nor  to  explain  or 
justify  the  conduct  of  individual  churchmen,  but  only  to  uphold  the 
Catholic  Church  as  the  parent  of  all  true  progress,  and  the  foster- 
mother  of  civilization. 

Of  the  comprehensive  character  of  the  implied  thesis,  we  are  fully 
conscious.  It  is  broad  and  deep  and  fundamental.  It  involves 
volumes  of  philosophy,  and  it  lifts  the  veil  from  the  vast  vision  of 
centuries  of  history.  He  who  would  address  himself  to  the  task  of 
making  a  full  exposition  of  the  question  should  scan  with  eagle  eye 
the  compass  of  the  earth,  and  behold  the  "  clean  oblation "  offered 
up  from  the  rising  to  the  setting  of  the  sun.  He  should,  to  make 
complete  comparisons,  gild  his  modern  mind  with  an  ancient  Grecian 
glory,  and  should  recall  to  a  sort  of  actual  existence  the  renown  of 
Rome.  The  sublime  splendor  of  the  past  must  shine  by  the  side  of 
the  brightness  of  the  present.  The  treasures  of  ancient  art  must 
reveal  their  beauty  ;  classic  literature  its  learning  ;  pagan  philosophy 
its  wisdom  and  its  power;  olden  science  its  sweep  and  skill;  aU  these, 
in  fine,  are  called  up  for  the  comparison  with  the  light  and  life  and 
civilization  which  have  been  carried  upon  the  wings  of  the  Gospel  of 
Christianity  through  the  globe.  Nor  is  this  all.  The  investigator 
must  foUow  step  by  step  the  march  of  mediaeval  progress.  The 
lamp  of  historic  truth  must  be  made  to  dispel  the  fictitious  darkness 
that  surrounds  the  ages  of  Faith.  Charlemagne  must  come  forth  in 
his  regal  majesty,  and  stand  somewhat  in  advance  of  Constantine. 
Pepin  and  Louis  and  Charles  are  to  have  a  place  in  the  mental  pic- 
ture, whose  foreground  reveals  the  figures  of  Alfred  and  Edward. 
The  schools  and  churches  that  adorned  the  valley  and  the  hiUtop, 
must  be  seen  in  the  panorama,  and  with  them  the  monasteries  and 
universities  and  hospitals,  which  shed  the  light  of  their  learning  and 
the  warmth  of  their  hospitality  on  the  millions  who  sought  their  in- 
struction or  their  shelter.  Oh,  those  were  the  much-maligned  middle 
ages !  It  was  then  the  fire  of  faith  burned  brightly  at  every  fane, 
the  wayside  cross  stood  on  every  highway,  and  the  mellow  notes  of 
the  Angelus  bell  sounded  from  every  steeple.  It  was  then  princes 
and  people  knelt  down  together  in  undistinguished  station  at  the 
Virgin's  shrine,  or  before  the  altar  of  the  Great  Adorable.  But  we 
digress. 

More  yet  remains  to  be  explored,  considered,  and  compared.    The 


51 

exponent  of  this  all-embracing  thesis  must  tread  the  tropic's  sandy 
plains,  and  climb  the  snow- crowned  summits,  where  the  opalescent 
crystals  seem  to  kiss  the  sun.  The  jungles  of  Africa,  the  heart  of 
the  dark  continent,  the  sun-seared  wastes  of  Arabia,  the  frigid 
steppes  of  Siberia,  the  populous  centres  of  Europe,  and  the  sublime 
solitudes  of  America,  must  all  be  conjured  up  by  the  wand  of  im- 
agination, to  bear  witness  to  the  wonderful  work  of  the  Church  in 
promoting  progress  in  the  world. 

Even  if  we  had  the  ability,  we  should  despair  of  rendering  even 
partial  justice  to  such  a  subject  within  the  compass  of  a  newspaper 
article  or  two.  We  hope  to  simplify  the  treatment  so  far  as  consist- 
ency with  clearness  will  permit. 

And,  first,  what  are  we  to  understand  by  the  oft-quoted,  but  not 
widely  understood,  term  progress  ?  It  is  obvious  to  all  who  think 
that  the  Church  cannot  set  herself  up  in  contradiction  of  a  progress 
whose  aim  is  purely  moral  and  religious.  That  would  be  to  deny 
and  contradict  herself.  Her  mission  primarily  and  directly  is  to 
lead  souls  to  God,  to  inculcate  moral  and  religious  truth,  to  spread 
justice,  charity,  benevolence,  and  virtue  of  every  sort,  and  thus  in- 
directly to  ameliorate  the  material  condition  of  humanity.  We  take 
it,  then,  that  those  who  ascribe  to  her  an  attitude  of  hostility  to 
progress  are,  for  the  most  part,  not  concerned  with  her  dogmas  and 
her  tenets  as  a  religious  institution  ;  but  rather  with  her  discipline 
and  public  polity  as  a  powerful  establishment  wielding  a  weighty  in- 
fluence upon  all  those  conditions  and  elements  which  conspire  to 
effect  what  is  called  material,  intellectual,  and  social  progress.  But 
who  does  not  perceive  the  fallaciousness  of  the  assumption  ?  The 
friend  of  moral  progress,  she  cannot  be  the  foe  of  any  other. 

Genuine  progress,  whether  intellectual  or  material,  is  and  must  be 
conjoined  to  moral  development,  and  it  is  unphilosophical  to  sepa- 
rate them.  There  may  be  a  moral  progress  without  any  great  mate- 
rial advancement.  But  the  converse  of  this  proposition  is  not  true, 
if  the  material  progress  be  designed  for  any  duration.*     The  proof 

*  Since  writing  the  above,  I  came  across  the  following  from  Card.  Man- 
ning:  "As  it  (material  progress)  existed  before  the  moral  foundation  of  a 
higher  law  and  life  was  laid,  so  it  may,  for  a  time,  survive  the  loss  of  that 
higher  life.  Great  economical  and  material  prosperity  may  be  found,  at  least 
for  a  time,  when  the  moral  life  of  a  people  is  declining  or  even  low." 


52 

is  plain.  For  as  there  is  no  progress  without  education,  so  there  is 
no  education  without  morality,  and  as  the  Church  is  the  con  server 
and  great  teacher  of  morality  and  religion,  so  is  she  the  parent  of 
progress. 

The  progress,  therefore,  of  which  we  here  speak  is  that  which 
comprises  the  widest  and  most  perfect  meaning  of  the  term.  It  is 
moral,  it  is  intellectual,  it  is  social.  It  is  the  harmonious  and  orderly 
development  of  all  the  faculties  of  man,  as  these  faculties  have  rela- 
tion to  the  external  law,  to  himself,  to  society  and  to  God.  Of  this 
progress  the  Catholic  Church  is  not  the  enemy,  but  the  champion, 
the  friend,  the  organizer,  and  the  effecter.  In  demonstration  of  this 
doctrine  we  shall  submit  two  arguments,  the  first  of  which,  deducible 
from  reason  and  the  very  nature  of  the  thing,  we  shall  call  the 
a  priori,  and  the  second,  based  on  facts  and  founded  in  experience, 
we  may  entitle  the  a  posteriori,  or  experimental. 

We  affirm  at  the  outset  that  that  Church  cannot  be  the  enemy  of 
progress  which,  almost  exclusively,  we  may  say,  possesses,  preserves, 
and  teaches  the  true  idea  of  progress.  And  this  we  resolutely  main- 
tain it  is  the  prerogative  of  the  Catholic  Church  to  do.  She  alone 
possesses  and  can  teach  the  proper  notion  of  what  progress  is,  for 
she  alone  lays  down  the  law  and  defines  the  limits  of  the  perfecti- 
bility of  man,  according  to  the  reality  of  truth.  To  place  an  exagger- 
ated estimate  on  the  powers  and  capabilities  of  man  is  as  fatal  to 
human  progress  as  it  would  be  to  deny  him  utterly  the  possibility  of 
any  perfection  of  his  powers.  Man  regarded  as  a  God  is  a  greater 
monster  than  man  regarded  as  a  brute.  Lifted  up  to  supreme  lord- 
ship of  the  earth,  he  is  sunk  to  the  status  of  a  slave.  Proudly  in- 
vested with  the  soul  and  nature  of  the  universe,  he  is  basely  stripped 
of  his  own.  And  this  is  the  first  false  notion  of  progress  which  the 
Church  confutes. 

There  is  but  one  supreme  God,  and  there  can  be  no  more.  In 
the  sublime  splendor  of  His  uncreated  majesty.  He  reigned  alone 
before  all  ages,  happy  in  the  boundless  possession  of  all  perfection. 
All  the  perfections  are  eminently  contained  in  Him,  and  have  been 
so  from  eternity.  He  is  infinite  in  His  nature,  He  is  infinite  in  His 
attributes.  His  knowledge.  His  goodness,  His  power,  all  are  infinite, 
and  man  must  hope  in  vain  ever  to  comprehend  this  immensity. 
Such  is  the  teaching  of  the  Church.     She  tells  man  that,  with  all  his 


53 

acquisitions,  and  all  his  exertions,  and  all  the  expansion  of  his 
powers,  he  is  but  a  Newton  picking  up  a  few  pebbles  on  the  strand- 
Bat  there  is  a  new  "  creed  of  culture,"  a  new  gospel  of  enlighten- 
ment, and  a  new  order  of  progress.  Man  is  no  longer  the  puny 
pigmy  that  he  was,  but  has  grown  in  a  night,  like  the  prophet's 
gourd,  not  to  the  dimensions  of  the  gourd,  but  to  the  gigantic  pro- 
portions of  a  God.  He  is  no  longer  a  "  part  of  the  stupendous 
whole,"  but  he  is  the  stupendous  whole  himself.  The  universe  is 
God,  and  man  is  the  universe,  therefore  he  is  God.  Liebnitz  thought 
that  it  was  possible  for  man  to  attain  perfection,  and  Condorcet  and 
others  of  the  French  school  prate  of  his  perfection.  But  a  still  more 
self-asserting  creed  has  come,  and  Matthew  Arnold,  and  George 
Eliot,  and  Ralph  Waldo  Emerson  are  its  divine  apostles.  And 
these  new  evangelists  unravel  reams  of  their  elaborated  nonsense. 
They  have  no  God  but  genius,  and  mind  is  the  idol  they  adore. 
"  The  true  Christianity  is  a  faith  in  the  infinitude  of  man,  mind  is 
the  almighty  giver,  and  thought  is  the  universe."  Ralph  must  have 
thought  himself  to  be  the  planet  Jupiter,  and  George  Eliot  is  sure 
she  is  at  least  a  satellite.  But  which  of  them,  by  taking  thought, 
could  add  a  cubit  to  their  stature  ?  True  enough,  they  pined  for  the 
perfect,  they  sighed  for  the  ideal,  and  they  wrote,  and  talked,  and 
raved  about  fantastic  conditions  of  existence,  in  which  man — with 
woman  too — would  be  the  know-all,  and  be-all,  and  end-all  of  eveiy- 
thing.  Everything,  then,  would  be  etherealized  and  sublimated  into 
mind  ;  man's  legs  would  be  his  mind,  and  his  mind  would  be  his 
legs  ;  into  vapory  mind,  the  universe  would  vanish  ;  and  one  ma- 
jestic mind  would  be  the  all-containing,  and  the  all-contained  ;  and 
that  mind,  we  suppose,  would  be  Mr.  Emerson,  or  rather  Mr.  Emer- 
son's mind,  for  he  himself  no  longer  would  appear. 

The  progress  of  this  airy  transcendentalism  has  for  its  term  "  nil" 
Aiming  at  infinitude,  it  results  in  nothing.  "  The  fruit  of  all  its 
labors  is  whipped  cream,"  and  all  its  labored  abstractions  only 
foment  a  sort  of  metaphysical  froth.  But  it  is  the  proper  cult,  and 
vast  are  the  crowds  that  bend  before  its  shrine.  Cultured  maidens 
lave  in  its  flowing  fountains,  and  now  "  prate  protoplasm  in  gilded 
saloons,"  and  talk  theology  trite  and  threadbare.  Protestantism  has 
not  the  inherent  power  to  cope  with  these  theories.  That  which 
cannot  guide  itself  can  be  no  guide  for  others.      Its  drift  and  trend. 


54 

when  not  to  pure  negation,  lies  in  the  same  direction.  Extremes 
meet,  and  it  is  either  absokite  negation,  or  universal  affirmation  ; 
that  is  to  say,  no  God  at  all,  or  a  pantheistic  God — a  nature  God, 
with  man  as  the  centre  and  soul,  the  beginning  and  the  end,  the 
Alpha  and  the  Omega  of  all  things. 

Catholicity  alone  can  check  all  such  devagations  of  the  human  in- 
tellect, which  are  not  only  incompatible  with,  but  which  make  prog- 
ress impossible.  Natural  religion  is  not  equal  to  the  task,  and  of 
itself  can  give  no  more  than  nature-worship,  whose  ultimate  object 
must  be  man  as  the  noblest  object  seen  in  nature. 

Supernatural  religion  is,  then,  necessary,  and  this  comes  from  the 
Church,  the  heavenly  channel  through  which  flows  down  to  us  the 
river  of  revelation  in  its  fidlness.  With  celestial  chart  and  compass 
this  pilot  of  paradise  points  the  unerring  course  our  frail  life -boat 
must  sail  to  clear  the  currents  that  carry  it  adrift  into  dangerous 
and  devouring  waters.  Yes,  she  makes  manifest  to  man  the  real 
goal  of  his  all-penetrating  genius,  the  object  of  his  hopes,  the 
motive  of  his  actions,  and  the  true  term  of  his  desires.  She  points 
out  to  him  all  the  possibilities  of  his  own  nature,  and  of  the  facul- 
ties of  his  soul,  and  measures  for  their  exercise  their  true  and  lawful 
bounds.  She  tells  him  that,  though  not  capable  of  infinite,  he  can 
yet  attain,  or  aspire  to,  indefinite  improvement ;  and  what  she 
affirms  of  man,  she  predicates  of  society,  since  society  is  but  a  multi- 
plex individual.  She  does  not,  however,  unduly  circumscribe  the 
sphere  of  his  development,  or  evolution,  if  you  will ;  but  for  the 
broadest  expansion  of  his  powers,  she  points  him  to  that  realm  of 
beatitude  in  which  the  unfettered  intellect  and  the  strengthened  will 
will  soar  to  inaccessible  heights  of  glory  and  brighten  to  aU 
eternity.  Oh,  it  is  a  grand  thought !  What  hidden  possibilities  in 
the  soul  of  man !  They  may  not,  they  cannot  here  be  realized,  but 
they  will  be  in  the  great  hereafter.  There  is  a  sort  of  celestial 
evolution.  The  improvement  and  the  progress  which  it  begins  in 
this  world,  the  immortal  human  soul  will  doubtless  continue  through 
endless  ages  in  the  next.  Its  faculties,  no  doubt,  will  be  subject  to  a  con- 
stant enlargement ;  its  capacity  for  enjoyment  will  ever  be  increased; 
and  an  ever-growing  knowledge  and  ever-kindling  love  will  be  its 
perpetual  possession,  that  thus  it  may  ever  drink  new  torrents  of 
delight  from  the  fountain  of  felicity  itself. 


65 

Again,  the  Catholic  Church  must  be  thought  to  have  the  true  idea 
of  progress,  for  she  is  the  only  institution  upon  earth  that  can  effect- 
ually produce,  by  reason  of  its  teaching,  that  harmonious  develop- 
ment of  the  faculties  of  man,  which  we  asserted  to  be  essential  to 
true  progress.      That  this  is  true  is  not  difficult  of  demonstration. 

"  'Tis  education  forms  the  common  mind,"  and  apai-t  from  it  no 
progress  is  possible.  Immorality,  vice,  and  barbarism  are  the  insep- 
arable attendants  of  ignorance,  "Nil  volitum  quin  proecognitum  ";  to 
do  right  we  must  first  know  what  it  is,  and  hence  even  virtue  her- 
self, where  she  reigns  at  all,  must  reign  from  the  throne  of  the  intel- 
ligence. Education  not  diffused,  but  confined  to  the  favored  few, 
can  bear  no  effective  sway.  The  untutored  mass  will  bear  down  the 
educated  class.  In  Greece,  in  the  polished  days  of  Pericles,  and  in 
Rome,  in  the  golden  age  of  Augustus,  no  wide  extension  of  even 
natural  vii'tue  was  attained  ;  for  knowledge  was  locked  up  in  the 
schools  of  the  nobles  and  patricians.  Alexander  the  Great  but  illus- 
trated the  common  view,  when,  with  characteristic  promptness,  he 
reprehended  his  tutor,  Aristotle,  for  publishing  the  acroamatic  parts 
of  science.  "  In  what  shall  we  differ  from  others,"  said  he,  "  if  the 
sublime  knowledge  which  we  have  gained  from  you  be  made  common 
to  all  the  world?  "  The  diffusion  of  knowledge  is  the  mission  of  the 
Church. 

But  howsoever  extensively  diffused,  that  education  is  void  of  value, 
which  does  not  stand  on  truth.  False  education  is  but  another  name 
for  ignorance,  or  more  correctly,  it  is  more  pernicious  and  baneful, 
because  ignorance  is  mostly  passive,  while  the  other  is  endowed  with 
the  activity  to  do  evil.  And  that  system  of  education  is  false  which 
either  fails  to  point  out  the  proper  objects  of  man's  faculties,  or  which 
trains  a  single  faculty  at  the  expense  of  the  rest,  or  which  neglects  to 
train  them  all  in  unison  and  accordant  harmony.  No  education  is 
worthy  of  the  name  which  seeks  not  to  construct  a  temple  of  human- 
ity, wherein  physical  strength,  mental  culture,  and  moral  beauty  shall 
combine  to  form  the  perfect  and  the  full-grown  man.  "  And  do  you," 
says  the  objector,  "  advance  the  ridiculous  claim  that  the  Catholic 
Church  is  the  only  educator  who  understands  and  teaches  this?" 
We  shall  see. 

Man  is  a  progressive  animal,  it  has  been  aptly  said,  and  the  epithet 
which  qualifies  the  substantive,  nicely  differentiates  him  from  all  other 


56 

animals,  which  are  not  susceptible  of  progress.  But,  be  it  remarked^ 
his  is  the  progress,  not  of  a  superior  animal  but  of  an  intelligent 
creature.  He  is  a  progressive  animal,  but  he  is  "  a  man  for  a'  that," 
and  by  consequence  a  being  of  complex  constitution.  He  is  bur- 
dened with  a  body,  but  he  bears  within  the  "  frail  and  fickle  frame  " 
a  spark  of  divinity  which  is  called  a  soul.  Yes  ;  a  soul  which  no 
earthly  delights  can  content  or  satisfy  ;  a  soul  which  breathes  after 
purer  joys  and  happiness  more  lasting  than  any  upon  earth  ;  a  soul 
immortal  in  her  nature,  and  exalted  far  above  the  earth  which  she 
looks  on  as  her  place  of  exile,  her  house  of  affliction  from  whence  she 
incessantly  sighs  for  that  celestial  country  where  she  shall  be  clothed 
with  the  glory  of  God  Himself,  and  shall  shine  with  the  splendor  of 
the  stars  for  all  eternity.  This  soul  is  made  unto  the  image  and  like- 
ness of  its  Creator,  and  the  delineation  or  the  conformation  of  that 
image  within  itself  is  the  function  which  the  soul  commences  at  crea- 
tion to  continue  through  the  eternal  years  ;  "for  those  whom  He 
foreknew  He  predestined  to  be  made  conformable  to  the  image  of 
His  Son." 

Now,  this  sovereign  soul  of  ours,  conformably  to  its  uncreated 
type,  has  been  gifted  with  manifold  powers  and  diverse  capacities. 
But  the  grandest  of  its  endowments  are  its  gifts*  of  freedom  and 
intelligence  which  are  rooted  in  man's  will  and  intellect.  I  think  it  no 
objection  to  this  to  say  that  the  angels  are  not  free,  for  they  have  no 
choice  to  make.*  "  Man  could  not  be  free  unless  he  were  intelli- 
gent," observes  St.  Thomas;  and  neither  could  he  be  intelligent  if  he 
were  not  free.  He  could  not  make  a  choice  if  he  knew  not  how  to 
choose,  and  to  what  end  would  he  know  how  to  choose  if  he  could 
not  make  the  choice  ?  These  two  faculties  then,  freedom  and  intel- 
ligence, are  by  nature  kin,  and  any  system  which  does  not  educate 
them  co-ordinately  must  do  violence  to  the  work  of  God  and  make 
man's  progress  abnormal  and  impossible.  Now,  the  Catholic  Church 
is  the  only  institution  that  recognizes  the  full  force  of  this  irrefraga- 
ble fact. 

Truth  is  the  formal  object  of  the  intellect  and  of  the  will,  the 
formal  object  is  good.   But  man  is  taught  the  truth  only  that  he  may 

*  The  angels  can  choose  between  doing  this  and  that  good.  They  are  con- 
firmed in  grace,  and  hence  cannot  but  pursue  the  good,  but  they  may  choose 
among  various  genera  of  good  acts  or  thoughts. 


57 

embrace  the  good.  And  truth  and  good  in  God  are  one.  "  He  alone 
is  good,"  and  all  alleged  truth  which  tends  not  to  Him  is  falsehood 
and  eiTor. 

It  is  obvious  then  that  that  plan  of  education  which  prescinds  from 
God  is  vitiated  in  its  root  and  its  entirety.  Professing  to  teach 
truth,  it  inculcates  fatal  falsehood  ;  and  aiming  at  producing  a  man, 
it  generates  a  monster.  As  we  are  given  to  know  the  truth  only  that 
we  may  love  the  good,  those  who  withdraw  the  good,  namely  God, 
from  their  methods  of  instruction,  are  by  a  single  blow  beheading 
both  and  defeating  the  very  possibility  of  their  own  desires  if  they 
meant  education  at  all. 

And  outside  Catholicity,  has  any  other  than  this  false  system  preva- 
lence or  sway  ?  No ;  we  say  mournfully,  no,  there  is  not.  Educate, 
educate,  is  the  continual  and  universal  cry  ;  but  it  is  the  education 
that  produces  the  accomplished  savage  and  not  the  Christian  man^ 
To  know  nature  in  all  her  ways  and  laws  ;  to  sift  the  bowels  of  the 
earth  and  dive  into  the  deep  recesses  of  the  sea;  to  measure  the  path 
of  the  sun  and  number  all  the  stars  of  the  firmament ;  to  acquire  all 
knowledge  save  the  knowledge  of  God — this  seems  the  chief  and  sole 
aim  of  the  nineteenth  century. 

Agreeably  to  this  princii:)le  God  is  relegated  to  the  background 
and  dropped  from  the  curriculum  of  studies.  And  what  is  the  fruit? 
A  race  of  moral  monsters  endowed  with  the  fearful  capacity  of  evil 
which  comes  of  misdirected  knowledge.  A  brood  of  vicious  vipers 
to  fester  in  the  bosom  of  society  and  prey  upon  its  strength  and 
vitality.  Oh !  glorious  antichmax  of  evolution.  Man  emerges  with 
the  help  of  his  accoucher,  Darwin,  from  the  ignoble  tabernacle  of  his 
apehood,  but  science  sends  him  back  to  grovel  in  loathsome  caves  of 
saurians  and  reptiles.  She  would  have  him  a  God,  but  she  made 
him  a  worm. 

And  is  it  upon  such  a  rock  the  security  of  the  state  is  founded  ? 
Are  these  the  men  to  stand  forth  the  mighty  motors  of  modem 
progress  ?  Men  of  mind  they  may  be,  but  they  are  men  who  have 
no  morals.  Men  with  heads,  no  doubt,  they  are  ;  but  alas !  they 
have  no  hearts.  But  they  are  the  spontaneous  outgrowth  of  the 
culture  which  they  have  received.  Their  minds  were  soaked  with 
science  of  a  sort,  but  their  hearts  were  left  as  dry  as  chips.  Their 
intellects  were  trained  and  formed  to  a  degree  of  refinement,  but 


58 

the  will,  the  pliant,  plastic,  mobile  will,  was  thought  unworthy  to  be 
moulded  to  its  model, — nay,  was  robbed  of  its  object,  for  it  was  rob- 
bed of  God. 

This  one-sided  and  truncated  system  of  scientific  culture  is  un- 
doubtedly the  arch-enemy  of  all  true  progress,  as  any  false,  unsound, 
or  inharmonious  development  of  the  human  faculties  must  of  neces- 
sity be.  But  widely  apart  from  this  is  the  system  of  the  Catholic 
Church.  She  has  no  crude  and  ill-digested  notion  of  the  nature  of 
man,  nor  of  the  needs  of  that  nature.  Keenly  conscious  of  his  end 
.and  destiny,  she  perceives  how  hollow  and  delusive  is  any  progress 
he  attempts,  which  has  not  for  its  ultimate  term  the  attainment  of 
that  end.  God  is  the  goal  which  she  ever  urges  man  to  gain.  She 
does  not  vilipend  the  value  of  human  science,  but  holds  it  high  in 
her  esteem.  But  no  faculty  of  the  soul  does  she  fail  to  feed  with  its 
appropriate  food.  The  mind  she  illumines  with  the  brightest  rays 
of  truth;  to  the  memory  she  recalls  the  sweetest  recollections;  the 
imagination  she  makes  glow  with  the  loftiest  ideals  and  the  grandest 
fancies  ;  the  heart  she  fills  with  the  purest  and  holiest  emotions,  and 
the  best  and  most  tender  of  sentiments  and  affections  ;  and  as  the 
crown  and  finish  of  all,  to  evoke  all  the  possibilities  of  human  char- 
acter and  manhood,  she  forms  the  will  to  virtue,  and  by  the  mag- 
netic attraction  of  divine  grace,  she  links  the  soul  to  God,  its  first 
principle,  its  final  end,  and  its  sovereign  and  only  good. 

The  Church,  therefore,  alone  produces  that  perfect  and  harmoni- 
ous development  of  man's  powers  and  faculties  which  is  the  founda- 
tion of  real  progress. 


Chapter   IL— Paet  I. 

It  is  not,  however,  from  the  sole  consideration  of  the  relation  and 
■co-ordination  of  the  faculties  in  themselves  that  the  idea  of  progress 
is  evolved.  These  faculties  must  be  rightly  ordered  in  themselves, 
and  every  faculty  must  have  its  proper  play.  But  they  must  also  be 
determined  rightly  to  their  objects;  they  must  be  legitimately  exer- 
cised. Now,  these  objects  are  fourfold,  viz. :  the  eternal  world,  man 
himself,  society,  and  God;  and  it  is  the  exercise  of  the  faculties  upon 


59 

these  several  objects  that  begets  the  various  genera  of  progress,  which 
are  commonly  known  as  material,  intellectual,  social,  and  moral  or 
religious. 

Now,  the  Catholic  Church  alone  prescribes  the  mode,  determines 
the  bounds,  and  marks  out  the  measure  according  to  which  the  hu- 
man faculties  must  be  brought  to  bear  upon  their  objects,  and  so 
perfected  as  to  call  forth  the  supreme  possibilities  of  progress  in  its 
manifold  variety.  And  this  direction  is  necessary,  not  only  to  give 
progress  its  highest  impetus  and  broadest  scope,  but  to  impart  to  it 
any  impulsion  whatever.  A  faculty  without  an  object  is,  indeed,  a 
power  without  a  purpose;  but  a  faculty  which  fails  to  strike  its  ob- 
ject, or  stiike  as  it  should,  serves  no  better  end  than  a  missile  which 
misses  the  intended  mark. 

The  claim  we  here  set  up  for  Catholicity  we  shall  seek  to  estabhsh 
from  a  consideration  of  the  genesis  of  the  several  sorts  of  progress; 
wherefore  it  shall  appear  how  Catholicity  determines  and  directs 
man  in  the  exercise  of  his  faculties  upon  their  objects  as  he  pursues 
his  progressive  course,  and  thus  shall  shine  forth  that  exclusive  part 
which  Catholicity  plays  in  the  production  of  aU  progress  properly 
deserving  the  name. 

After  this  dry  disquisition,  we  proceed  to  the  discussion  of  things 
more  interesting,  because  of  a  more  concrete  character,  and,  perhaps, 
therefore  less  confused.  We  may  not  hope,  so  intimately  woven  is 
one  order  of  progress  with  another,  to  observe  that  sharp  distinction 
in  the  arrangement  and  introduction  of  topics  which  our  divisions 
might  seem  to  make  desirable,  yet  we  shall  do  our  best.  At  the 
risk  of  repetition,  we  shall  strive  to  shun  obscurity.  Material  prog- 
ress first  merits  our  attention,  not  by  reason  of  importance,  but  in 
force  of  arrangement. 

If  we  were  abruptly  required  to  give  a  definition  of  material  prog- 
ress which  might  be  regarded  as  both  accurate  and  adequate,  we 
feel  forced  to  confess  our  fears  as  to  our  ability  to  comply  with  the 
demand.  And  if  any  are  amazed  at  the  might  of  our  ignorance,  we 
refer  them  to  the  dictum  we  laid  down  with  respect  to  the  illogical 
and  unphilosophical  reasoning  which  would  disjoin  things,  so  natu- 
rally united  as  are  the  different  kinds  of  development  called  progress. 
As  the  human  mind,  however,  is  gifted  with  the  power  of  abstrac- 
tion, nothing  hinders  our  endeavor  to  consider  material  progress  as 


60 

something  by  itself,  and  as  if  it  were  the  work  of  man  endowed  with 
no  more  than  a  machine-like  capacity  for  controlling  matter. 

When  man  brings  his  faculties  to  bear  upon  the  matter  of  the 
earth,  the  outcome  is  a  change  or  alteration  which  constitutes  the 
principle  of  material  progress.  Man  is  not  the  God  of  matter,  for 
he  did  not  call  it  into  creation,  and  as  he  cannot  create,  so  neither 
can  he  destroy.  No  particle  of  matter  ever  perishes,  and  this  is  one 
of  the  undisputed  facts  of  science.  Wherefore,  it  follows  that  all 
man's  efforts  and  energies  as  exerted  upon  matter,  have  no  other 
effect  than  that  of  transformation.  "  Man  may  plant,  Apollo  water, 
but  God  gives  the  increment,"  and  hence,  if  God  smile  not  on  his 
endeavors,  all  man's  attempt  on  matter,  transformations  only  though 
they  be,  are  fruitless,  purposeless,  and  vain.  For  the  very  inchoa- 
tion  of  material  progress,  man  must  call  in  the  co-operation  of  his 
Maker.  In  never  losing  sight  of  this  fundamental  truth  and  effica- 
ciously pressing  it  on  man,  the  Church  makes  possible  the  initial 
step,  sows  the  seed,  furnishes  the  germ  of  that  growth  we  know  as 
progress. 

To  transform  is  to  labor.  No  change  in  matter  can  be  effected  by 
man,  save  by  the  exertion  of  his  powers.  The  golden  age  of  which 
the  poet  dreamed  had  no  reality,  unless  it  were  in  Paradise  before 
the  Fall. 

"  The  p^olden  age  was  first,  when  man,  yet  new, 
No  rule  but  uncorrupted  reason  knew, 
And  with  a  nature  bent,  did  good  pursue. 

No  walls  were  yet,  nor  fence,  nor  moat,  nor  mound, 
Nor  drum  was  heard,  nor  trumpet's  angry  sound. 
Nor  swords  were  forged  ;  but  void  of  care  and  crime, 
The  soft  creation  slept  away  their  time."  — Ovid. 

Labor  was  then  unnecessary,  for  the  obedient  soil  yielded  forth 
spontaneously  whatever  was  wanting  to  minister  to  man's  creature 
comforts. 

"  Out  of  the  fertile  ground  [God]  caused  to  grow 
All  trees  of  noblest  kind  for  sight,  smell,  taste  ; 
And  all  amid  them  stood  the  tree  of  Life, 
High,  eminent,  blooming  ambrosial  fruit 

Of  vegetable  gold 

Southward  through  Eden  went  a  river  large, 


61 

Nor  changed  its  course,  but  thro'  the  shaggy  hill 
Pass'd  underneath  engalf  d  : 

....  Which  through  the  veins 
Of  porous  earth,  with  kindly  thirst  updrawn, 
Rose  a  fresh  fountain,  and  with  many  a  rill 

Watered  the  garden 

And  from  that  sapphire  fount  the  crisped  brooks, 

Rolling  on  orient  pearl  and  sands  of  gold 

With  mazy  error  under  pendant  shades 

Ran  nectar ;  .  .  .  . 

Groves  whose  rich  trees  wept  odorous  gums  and  balms ; 

Others  whose  fruit  burnished  with  golden  rind 

Hung  amiable  ; 

Flowers  of  all  hue,  and  without  thorn  the  rose  ; 

....  Umbrageous  grots  and  caves 
Of  cool  recess,  o'er  which  the  mantling  vine 

Lays  forth  the  purpling  grape 

....  Airs,  vernal  airs, 
Breathing  the  smell  of  field  and  grove,  attune 
The  trembling  leaves,  while  universal  Pan, 
Knit  with  Graces  and  the  Hours  in  dance, 
Led  on  the  eternal  spring."  — Milton. 

This,  indeed,  was  the  golden  age,  if  any  such  there  were  ;  for 
"  Hesperian  fables,  if  true  at  all,  true  only  here."  This  was  the 
period  of  traditional  innocence  before  man  felt  the  "  woes  of  want," 
the  pangs  of  poveiiy,  and  the  heavy  scourge  of  sin.  Oh !  blissful 
bowers  of  Eden,  home  and  paradise  of  peace.  Foul  was  the  fiend  of 
darkness,  who  from  us  filched  thy  felicity,  robbed  us  of  thy  rest,  and 
sent  us  toil-worn  wanderers  through  a  land  of  blight  and  bale.  Yet 
even  so  it  was. 

And  now  man  must  his  "fardels  bear";  he  must  "sweat  and 
groan  under  his  weary  burden,"  nor  may  he  lay  it  down,  till  death, 
which  lightens  all  our  loads,  shall  lift  it  from  his  back.  Not  merely 
"  from  early  morn  till  dewy  eve,"  but  from  morning's  rosy  manhood 
tiU  the  pale  starlight  of  declining  days  is  quenched  within  the  tomb, 
must  he  maintain  "the  struggle  for  existence."  It  is  not,  indeed, 
the  struggle  in  which  the  weaker  go  to  the  wall,  and  the  helpless  are 
ground  out,  that  the  fittest  (?)  may  survive  ;  but  it  is  no  less  for  that, 
a  hard,  heavy,  strenuous  struggle  to  wrench  from  the  stubborn  soil, 
or  an  unwilUng  world,  the  elements  of  life  and  subsistence. 


62 

Labor,  then,  is  the  great  law  of  life,  and  the  prime  mover  of  all 
progress.  Of  this  pregnant  truth,  no  one  has  a  keener  recognition 
than  the  Church  ;  and  to  lend  it  full  force  and  effect,  none  furnishes 
such  powerful  and  impelling  motives.  In  the  world's  wisdom, 
man  must  labor  only  because  he  must  live  ;  in  the  Church's  eye, 
labor  is  sanctified  as  a  Christian  duty.  According  to  the  knowledge 
of  the  world,  labor  is  an  irksome  burden  to  be  avoided  if  man  has 
to  feed  upon  his  wits  ;  but  in  the  light  of  Catholic  instruction,  labor 
must  be  embraced  as  a  condition  of  existence  consequent  upon 
original  sin. 

She  who  explains  the  fount  and  origin  of  the  obligation,  can  prop- 
erly enforce  the  fulfillment  of  the  duty.  The  drones  of  society, 
society  starves  or  brutalizes  in  her  prisons  ;  the  Church  would  make 
them  profitable  servants  by  recalling  them  to  a  sense  of  manly  self- 
respect  and  Christian  independence.  Idleness  she  declares  to  be  a 
sin.  "  In  the  sweat  of  thy  brow  thou  shalt  eat  thy  bread,"  is  the 
fiat  of  the  Almighty. 

Pakt  II. 

As  the  Church  is  the  prime  mover  of  material  progress,  properly 
understood,  so  is  she  the  parent  of  genuine  social  movement. 

By  the  social  system,  I  mean  those  varied  and  multiform  relations 
which  each  individual  holds  to  other  members  of  human  society. 

Man  is  born  in  society  ;  he  is  a  social  being,  or  as  Dr.  Johnson 
puts  it  facetiously,  "  man  is  a  clubbable  animal,"  for  he  does  not 
suffice  for  himself.  He  depends  on  society  no  less  than  on  God;  or 
to  speak  more  accurately,  he  depends  on  God  through  society  and 
by  communion  with  his  fellow-man.  "  No  man  liveth  unto  himself," 
is  true  in  a  social,  no  less  than  in  a  moral  sense. 

The  social  system  comprises  manifold  relations,  which,  however, 
for  brevity's  sake,  we  shall  reduce  to  a  few  principal  heads.  Of 
these,  the  first  in  order  is  the  family  relation. 

"  It  is  not  good  for  man  to  be  alone,"  said  the  Lord  of  the 
creation,  and  thus  by  calling  woman  into  being,  and  giving  her  to 
Adam  to  wife,  God  Himself  became  the  direct  and  immediate  founder 
of  the  family  relation. 

Conformably,  therefore,  to  divine  ordinance,  it  comes  that,  instead 
of  men  being  consigned  to  solitary  separation,  like  Alexander  Selkirk 


63 

on  the  island  of  Juan  Fernandez,  on  the  one  hand;  or  being  congre- 
gated, on  the  other,  into  promiscuous  herds,  they  are  divided  into 
small  communities,  of  which  the  individual  head  is  called  the 
father  ;  united  together  by  those  instincts,  those  ties  of  affection, 
those  gentle  offices  of  service,  trust,  and  dependence  which  flow 
spontaneously  from  the  conditions  of  existence  incident  to  the 
nature  and  the  constitution  of  family  life.  Thus  the  individual  i» 
the  basis  of  the  family,  and  the  family  the  foundation  of  the  state. 

How  good,  how  admirable  the  providence  of  God!  Rational 
creatures  enter  life,  not  like  many  of  the  lower  orders  of  creation, 
provided  with  the  power  of  procuring  the  means  of  existence,  but 
in  a  condition  of  extreme  helplessness,  unable  not  only  to  supply 
their  wants,  but  even  to  express  them. 

But  God  has  established  the  parental  relation,  and  provided  ua 
with  kind  and  loving  parents,  to  minister  to  our  infirmities,  to  furnish 
us  the  sustenance  we  require,  and  to  seek  no  ampler  reward  for  all 
their  toil  and  pain  than  the  smile,  the  joy,  the  gratitude  of  their  off- 
spring. Sweet  days  of  childhood,  they  come  not  back  again  ;  but 
what  memory  is  so  unmindful  of  those  distant  days,  or  so  feeble  as 
to  fail  in  recollection  of  the  melting  love,  the  enduring  tenderness, 
and  the  fond  affection  of  the  parents  that  bore  us  into  life,  afar 
along  its  prickly  path !  Where  shall  we  again  find  a  nurture  so 
beautiful,  and  a  cai*e  so  thoughtful  and  so  kind  as  that  which 
smoothed  our  pathway  under  the  mantle  of  a  mother's  kindness,  and 
under  the  shelter  of  a  father's  hand  ?  Like  the  gentle  dew  from 
heaven,  their  love  rained  blessings  on  our  heads. 

And  yet  there  have  been,  and  are  still,  those  who  would  tear  up 
by  the  roots  those  tender,  holy  ties  ;  who  would  destroy  parental  au- 
thority and  with  it,  family  life,  by  placing  the  education  of  the 
young  under  state  control,  to  the  exclusion  of  those  rights  which  a 
father  inherits  from  the  law  of  nature,  and  the  law  of  God.  Fare- 
well, then,  to  the  domestic  hearth,  the  shrine  of  innocence  and  love;, 
farewell  to  home  and  all  the  dear  associations  that  cluster  round  the 
sacred  name. 

To  accomplish  this  unholy  object  has  been  the  aim  of  social  phi- 
losophers and  law-givers  since  the  days  of  Lycurgus  in  Sparta,  who 
displaced  the  parent  from  his  rightful  position  over  his  child,  with 
no  better  result  than  the  production  of  a  race  distinguished  only  for 


64 

brutality  of  manners,  for  selfishness  and  cruelty,  and  for  the  absence 
of  those  sentiments  and  affections  which  can  be  fostered  so  well  and 
so  fruitfully  under  the  benignant  shade  of  the  parental  roof-tree. 

The  Catholic  Church,  however,  has  always  vindicated  the  rights  of 
the  parent  to  the  education  and  control  of  his  children  against  all 
usurpation  of  the  state,  while  she  stringently  enjoins  on  the  parents 
as  a  j^aramount  duty  the  office  of  bringing  up  their  offspring  as 
becomes  their  sacred  charge,  planting  in  their  youthful  minds  the 
tender  shoots  of  viitue,  ideas  of  patriotism  and  incorruptible  citizen- 
ship, of  which  the  summary  is  to  educate  them  in  the  fear  and  love 
of  God. 

Nor  does  she  fail  to  enforce  those  reciprocal  obligations  of  love, 
obedience,  reverence,  and  respect,  which  are  incumbent  on  children 
towards  the  parents  who  begot  them.  Indeed,  filial  piety  and  par- 
ental care  are  darling  objects  of  the  Church's  heart,  which,  both 
in  season  and  out  of  season,  she  inculcates  with  all  the  force  and 
power  of  her  God-given  mission,  as  the  spiritual  mother  of  mankind. 

Social  life  without  the  family  is  impossible,  but  the  Church 
sustains  the  social  system,  by  maintaining  the  integrity  of  the 
family,  and  thus  proves  herself  the  mother  of  social  progress. 

The  perpetuity  of  the  family  depends  upon  the  sanctity  and  per- 
manence of  the  marriage  bond.  The  destruction  of  parental  author- 
ity is  perhajDS  a  lesser  evil  than  that  which  makes  the  marriage  con- 
tract revocable  at  the  option  or  caprice  of  one  or  both  of  the  persons 
thereunto  concerned  ;  for  the  latter  monstrous  doctrine  opens  the 
floodgates  of  licentiousness,  destroys  the  peace  and  harmony  of 
households,  engenders  heartaches,  bickerings,  nay,  even  uxoricide, 
suicide,  and  various  forms  of  death,  and  not  only  saps,  but  upturns 
the  foundations  of  society.  Such  keen  observers  as  Gladstone  and 
Tolstoi  are  alive  to  the  force  of  this  contention,  and  are  as  strong  in 
advocacy  of  the  indissolubility  of  marriage,  and  denunciation  of 
divorce,  as  Catholics  themselves  can  be. 

But  where,  outside  the  Catholic  Church,  shall  we  find  an  institu- 
tion of  like  power  and  influence,  maintaining,  as  a  doctrine  born  of 
heaven,  that  marriage  is  a  contract  raised  by  Christ  to  the  sublime 
dignity  of  a  Sacrament,  ratified  by  God  in  heaven,  and  unbreakable 
by  any  power  soever,  till  the  bonds  are  severed  by  the  leveDing  hand 
of  death. 


65 

Wild  theorists,- called  Christian  Scientists,  and  the  insane  advocates 
of  socialism  in  its  full  sense,  have  sought  to  overturn  the  marriage 
relation,  but  God  has  inscribed  folly  on  these  mad  attempts  to  dis- 
turb His  divine  arrangements  for  the  welfare  of  mankind. 

In  the  social  system  government  is  a  necessary  element.  Society 
without  government  cannot  stand,  for  to  govern  and  be  governed  is 
of  the  essence  of  association.  Nay,  there  is  government  among  the 
angels  and  in  heaven  itself, 

' '  For  order  is  heaven's  first  law,  and  thus  conf est. 
Some  are,  and  must  be,  greater  than  the  rest." 

In  order  to  the  well-being  of  communities,  and  for  purposes  of  just 
restraint,  for  maintaining  order,  peace,  and  prosperity,  goverament 
is  indispensable.  The  possession  of  property,  the  exercise  of  fre- 
dom,  nay,  the  preservation  of  life  itself,  demands  that  protection 
which  government  is  ordained  to  give.  But  if  there  is  to  be  a  gov- 
ernment, then  there  must  of  necessity  exist  the  reciprocal  conditions 
of  commandment  and  obedience  ;  for  to  govern  means  to  inile,  to 
command,  and  to  command  were  idle  if  there  existed  no  obligation 
to  obey. 

Now,  it  is  true  that  the  very  palpable  advantages  which  are  de- 
rived from  the  institution  of  government  are  a  great  incentive  to 
obedience  on  the  part  of  the  governed,  as  well  as  those  feelings  of 
loyalty  and  nationality  which  are  so  natural  to  man;  but  to  secure  that 
unshaken  allegiance  and  that  universal  respect  which  are  essential  to 
the  perseverance  of  government,  higher  feelings  and  stronger  sanc- 
tions are  required.     These  sanctions  come  from  God^ 

Obviousl}^,  therefore,  it  belongs  to  the  Church  to  explain  and  de- 
fend these  sanctions,  for  she  alone  lays  down  those  theories  as  to  the 
origin  of  power  and  authority,  which  being  accordant  with  divine 
truth,  ai'e  capable  of  securing  the  just  ends  of  government. 

The  seed  of  pride  was  sown  in  the  heart  of  man  by  the  serpent  of 
old  time,  and  from  that  hour  to  the  present  it  is  a  painful  thing  for 
man  to  subject  his  will  to  that  of  his  fellow-creatures,  unless  it  be 
made  clear  to  be  his  duty.  But  what  is  duty  ?  What  is  it  but  what 
God  commands,  and  it  is  duty  precisely  because  He  has  com- 
manded it. 

When,  therefore,  it  becomes  apparent  that  the  authority  of  the 
5 


government  is  the  authority  of  God,  the  subordination  of  man's  will 
to  those  invested  with  such  power  is  no  longer  painful  to  his  pride 
and  self-sufficiency. 

Behold,  then,  the  important  function  which  the  Church  plays  in 
the  scheme  of  government  in  refuting  false  theories  which  place  the 
origin  of  power  in  social  compacts,  or  in  the  right  of  conquest,  or 
in  the  popular  will,  and  in  teaching  that  it  comes  direct  from  God, 
which  gives  to  society  its  stability,  to  governments  their  authority, 
and  to  laws  their  binding  force  upon  the  human  conscience.  The 
Church  declares  that  he  who  resisteth  the  secular  power  lawfully 
constituted,  resisteth  the  ordinance  of  God,  for  there  is  no  power 
but  from  Him. 

She  rests  not  here,  for  she  knows  that  the  arrogance  of  man  im- 
pels to  tyranny,  no  less  than  to  insubordination,  nay,  his  arrogance 
grows  proportionately  with  his  opportunities  to  sway  his  fellow-men 
for  the  gratification  of  ambition.  Those,  therefore,  who  sit  in  high 
places  are  apt  sometimes  to  consider  their  authority  as  property  that 
is  personal,  rather  than  pertaining  to  their  office,  and  thus  substitute 
their  own  will  for  the  will  of  God,  the  supreme  governor. 

To  these  despotic  rulers  the  Church  teaches  the  needful  lesson 
that  their  power  is  not  their  own,  but  the  power  of  God  ;  that  it  is  a 
limited,  not  an  absolute  power  ;  that  it  is  a  delegated  and  subordi- 
nate power  which  they  must  exercise  with  discretion  for  the  good  of 
mankind,  and  the  glory  of  Him  to  whom  they  must  one  day  sur- 
render it  again,  for  "  power  is  given  them  from  the  Most  High,  who 
will  examine  all  their  works  and  pass  judgment  thereupon." 

In  the  social  system  every  man  must  depend  upon  a  vast  number 
of  his  fellow-men,  who  are  in  turn  dependent  on  others  of  their  race. 

Now,  it  might  seem  as  if  there  were  so  little  coherence  in  society, 
so  little  probity,  fidelity,  and  truth,  that  the  great  fabric  would  fall 
down  by  its  own  instability.  Indeed,  when  we  consider  the  greed 
and  selfishness  of  men,  we  are  hardly  shocked  at  the  theories  of  men 
like  St.  Simon,  Fourier,  and  others  of  the  communistic  school,  who 
laid  down  the  dictum  that  all  men  are  swayed  by  an  enlarged  self- 
love  and  inordinate  ambition.  And  yet,  whence  comes  it  that  the 
commerce  of  the  whole  world  is  sustained  by  little  bits  of  white 
paper  stamped  credit  or  truth  ?  Whence  comes  it,  the  care  of  the 
poor,  the  relief  of  the  indigent,  the  support  of  the  sick,  the  maimed. 


67 

and  the  helpless,  are  matters  of  concern  to  the  chief  portion  of  soci- 
ety ?  It  comes,  you  say,  of  the  instinct  of  preservation,  or  at  least, 
of  the  instinct  of  humanity.  Not  so.  "  Man's  inhumanity  to  man 
makes  countless  thousands  mourn,"  and  the  instinct  of  preservation  is 
not  active  when  dangers  seem  remote.  It  comes  from  the  teachings 
and  the  influence  of  the  religion  of  Christ  inculcating  charity  and 
benevolence,  honesty  and  truth,  industry  and  sobriety,  as  the  only 
basis  of  the  prosperity  of  the  state,  and  the  preservation  of  society. 

Hence  the  futility  of  the  attempts  of  those  enemies  of  revelation 
who  have  sought  to  found  a  social  system  without  the  aid  of  religion. 
God  will  always  mock  such  empty  schemes,  and  the  originators  He 
will  cover  with  confusion. 

The  Catholic  Church  is  now,  as  she  has  been  from  the  beginning, 
the  only  successful  opponent  of  this  false  and  dangerous  doctrine  ; 
she  is,  therefore,  the  conserver  of  society,  the  palladium  of  govern- 
ment, the  effective  promoter  of  all  social  progress. 

Part  III. 

The  chief  faculties  of  man  are  his  intellect  and  will.  They  con- 
stitute the  principles  of  knowledge  and  volition,  and  they  are  his 
glory  and  his  crown.  It  was  in  view  of  these  powers  of  the  human 
soul,  incomparably  above  all  else  in  the  work  of  God's  creation,  that 
the  inspired  Psalmist  was  led  to  declare  that  God  had  fashioned 
man  but  "  Httle  below  the  angels.*'  And  if  they  place  him  but  little 
below  the  angelic  creation,  they  raise  him  immeasurably  above  all 
irrational  existence.  "  Man,"  says  St.  Thomas,  "  differs  from  irra- 
tional creatures  in  this,  that  he  has  the  mastery  of  his  acts,"  which, 
in  plainer  phrase,  signifies  that  he  is  a  being  of  intelligence  and 
freedom. 

The  will  is  the  power  of  choosing  between  good  and  evil,  "  life 
and  death";  or,  to  speak  with  more  exactitude,  since  the  wiU  cannot 
choose  evil  for  sheer  evil's  sake,  but  only  under  the  semblance  of 
good,  the  will  is  the  faculty  of  choosing  good  and  rejecting  evil. 

As  nothing  can  be  the  object  of  our  choice,  unless  it  be  in  some 
way  the  object  of  cognition,  man  was  gifted  by  God  with  the 
light  of  intelhgence  to  enable  him  to  work  out  his  pre-established 
destiny  by  the  employment  of  the  means  deemed  necessary  by  the 


63 

Creator  in  His  eternal  plan.  The  will,  of  itself,  is  a  "  blind  faculty," 
as  the  philosophers  say,  incompetent  to  grasp  the  good  which  it  was 
made  for  ;  and  hence,  unless  the  lamp  of  reason  shine  before  it  to 
guide  its  way,  it  must  grope  helplessly  in  darkness.  How  necessary, 
then,  intelligence  is  to  man  for  the  attainment  of  his  ultimate  end 
appears  from  this,  that  God  has  made  the  observance  of  His  law  the 
means  to  lead  men  to  the  final  purpose  of  their  being.  Law  has 
been  defined  the  limitation  of  man's  liberty,  but  I  think  it  is  better 
described  as  the  perfection  of  that  power.  But,  howsoever  it  be 
viewed,  it  is  always  manifest  that  the  will  of  man  can  neither  incline 
to,  nor  deflect  from,  the  law,  until  the  latter  address  itself  to  man 
through  the  light  of  his  intelligence.  The  power  of  initiative,  there- 
fore, resides  in  the  intellect ;  and  in  this  sense,  though  the  will  be 
the  nobler,  the  intellect  is  the  primary  principle  in  man,  and,  taken 
together,  they  constitute  the  great  motive  and  moral  power  of 
humanity. 

I  am  not  unaware  that  many  metaphysicians  and  psychologists 
have  evolved  a  much  more  minute  and  elaborate  enumeration  of  the 
faculties;  but  not  infrequently  they  have  done  so,  only  to  beget  con- 
fusion, and  mix  up,  in  inextricable  medley,  feelings,  emotions,  per- 
ceptions, volitions,  powers,  and  passions.  It  is  just  here  that  the 
Catholic  Church  serves  mankind  signally  in  preserving  those  funda- 
mental distinctions,  and  those  only,  which  are  consonant  with  reality 
and  psychological  experience,  and  necessary  to  enable  man  to  attain 
that  supreme  wisdom  found  only  through  the  right  knowledge  of 
himself.  Some  confounded  volitions  and  emotions,  and  thence  arose 
a  controversy  which  Catholic  philosophy,  based  on  Theistic  princi- 
ples, alone  could  settle  whether  faith  was  a  matter  of  head  or  heart. 
The  severe  intellectualism  of  Kant  would  reduce  all  religion  to  pure 
rationalism  ;  and  as  extremes  always  meet,  there  soon  arose  a  reac- 
tionary school  which  made  sentiment  and  feeling  the  root  of  morality, 
religion,  and  philosophy.  At  present,  however,  we  are  chiefly  con- 
cerned with  the  intellect:  its  relation  to  the  other  powers  of  the  soul 
will  be  seen  as  we  advance  ;  nor  do  we  think  it  necessary  here  to 
enter  upon  any  discussion  as  to  whether  there  be  a  real  distinction 
between  the  soul  and  her  faculties,  or  between  the  faculties  them- 
selves ;  for,  whether  we  so  consider  the  case,  or  whether  we  regard 
intellections,  emotions,  and  volitions  merely  as  difl'erent  mauifesta- 


tions  of  the  same  subject,  the  soul,  in  operation,  it  makes  nothing 
against  the  soundness  of  a  philosophy  which  ascribes  to  every  opera- 
tion its  right  value,  and  does  not  confound  an  act  of  volition  with  an 
act  of  intelligence,  nor,  what  is  worse,  with  an  affection  of  the  emo- 
tional part  of  man's  nature.  As  Cardinal  Newman  says,  "We  trust 
not  our  faculties  so  much  as  their  acts  ;  and  indeed  it  is  from  the 
inspection  and  consideration  of  the  acts  only,  that  we  have  any  war- 
rant for  ascribing  them  to  one  faculty  rather  than  another." 

As  progress  has  been  defined  to  be  the  orderly  and  harmonious 
development  of  man  in  relation  to  his  faculties  and  their  proper  exer- 
cise; so  intellectual  progress  is  the  development  of  man's  intellectual 
powers  according  to  the  purposes  for  which  God  created  them;  and 
hence  we  must  have  at  the  outset  a  clear  comprehension  of  these 
powers  to  produce  the  initial  step  on  the  road  of  progi'ess. 

What  is  this  wonderful  intellect  of  ours  which  we  are  so  proud  to 
speak  about  ?  It  is  the  instrument  of  our  knowledge  ;  nay,  it  is  not 
merely  the  instrument,  it  is  the  cause;  in  a  sense  it  is  the  generator 
and  conserv'er  of  the  knowledge  which  it  draws  up  into  its  conserva- 
tories from  the  garden  of  the  senses. 

Nothing  but  that  which  is  time  has  a  right  to  exist ;  there  is  no 
room  for  falsehood  in  this  world.  Knowledge  is  the  foundation, 
error  the  enemy  of  all  progress.  But  truth  alone  is  knowledge. 
Ignorance  in  itself  is  not  error,  for  en-or  lies  in  the  judgment,  and  is 
a  positive  condition  or  state,  while  ignorance  is  the  absence  of  knowl- 
edge, and  is  always  the  point  of  departure  in  the  eternal  quest  after 
truth.  It  was  this  reflection  that  extorted  from  Eousseau  the  state- 
ment that  it  is  not  what  we  do  not  know,  but  what  we  know"  errone- 
ously that  brings  us  to  harm.  And  I  think  it  is  our  own  Josh  Bil- 
Ungs,  who  was  so  fond  of  repeating  the  quaint  apothegm,  borrow^ed 
from  Montaigne,  that  it  is  better  not  to  know  so  many  things,  than 
to  know  so  many  things  that  are  not  so.  Indeed,  "  where  ignorance 
is  bliss,  'tis  folly  to  be  wise." 

And  well,  indeed,  it  were,  if  on  the  first  day  the  conscious  creature 
turned  in  upon  himself  to  explore  the  wonderful  workings  of  his 
mind,  he  saw  them  according  to  the  reality  of  truth,  and  not  by  the 
unsteady  and  delusive  light  of  a  false  philosophy.  Perhaps  it  was 
in  punishment  of  his  pride  and  self-sufficiency,  that  man's  strenuous 
strivings  to  attain  the  all-important  knowledge  of  himself,  so  often 


70 

ended  in  puerility  of  principles  discovered,  with  a  long  chain  of  fatal 
and  calamitous  consequences. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  it  was  only  when  man  turned  his  thoughts  from 
the  external  world  around  him  to  the  world  of  mind  within  him,  that 
he  plunged  into  the  seething  waters  of  wildest  error  and  vain  imag- 
inings. In  the  history  of  philosophy  the  shores  of  thought  are  strewn 
with  the  mental  wrecks  of  the  boldest  explorers. 

"The  proper  study  of  mankind  is  man";  and  the  day  that  man 
first  began  to  reflect,  to  study  himself,  "Agere  intus,"  to  read  within, 
philosophy  was  born.  On  that  day  was  sown  the  seed  of  progress  in 
humanity,  though  the  cost  in  error  was  incalculable.  By  the  law  of 
psychological  analysis  illumined  by  the  light  of  human  history  we 
discover  that  every  element  of  progress  and  civilization  has  its  origin 
in  the  intellect  of  man.  Human  nature  is  everywhere  the  same.  Its 
primary  manifestation  is  in  the  individual ;  but  as  the  species  is  but 
an  individual  of  larger  growth,  its  larger  manifestation  is  found  in 
the  species,  and  the  history  of  the  species  is  the  history  of  develop- 
ment, of  progress,  and  of  civilization. 

How  essential,  then,  to  progress  is  it,  that  man  should  have  a  cor- 
rect knowledge  of  himself,  and,  perforce,  of  his  intellectual  powers 
and  all  his  cognitive  faculties.  Catholic  philosophy  alone,  guided  by 
the  wisdom  from  above,  has  been  able  to  correct  the  aberrations  and 
safely  direct  the  investigations  of  the  human  mind  in  the  delicate 
and  difficult  pursuit  of  the  knowledge  begotten  by  reflection  on  the 
operations  and  laws  of  the  understanding.  Such  philosophy  alone,  I 
say,  can  do  this,  for  it  is  divine,  and  intellectually,  as  well  as  morally, 
"  to  err  is  human."  The  radical  defect  with  all  purely  human  phi- 
losophy, from  the  days  of  Philo,  Plato,  and  Aristotle  to  our  own  time, 
has  been  the  utter  discrediting  of  grace  and  the  influence  of  the 
supernatural  in  the  investigations  of  the  human  mind,  especially 
when  fixing  its  intuitions  upon  itself.  Here  precisely  comes  the  cry 
of  the  great  Augustine,  "  Lord !  that  I  may  know  Thee  ;  that  I  may 
know  myself." 

This  may  be  theism,  if  you  will ;  but  let  it  not  be  forgotten  that 
genuine  philosophy  is  twin  sister  to  theism  ;  or  rather,  they  are 
united  by  inseparable  marriage.  But  we  need  not  urge  this  point 
now. 

When  the  human  intellect  began  the  work  of  self -interrogation, 


71 

the  first  question  which  presented  itself  from  the  background  of 
consciousness,  was,  can  I  know  an^-thing  ?  How  do  I  know  ?  How 
do  I  know  that  I  know?  Is  my  knowledge  real?  How  am  I  to 
attain  knowledge  ?  "When  the  German  professor  said  to  his  class  in 
college,  "  Think  the  wall.  Now  think  that  which  thinks  the  wall,"  he 
struck  the  root  of  all  philosophy.  But  Catholic  philosophy,  which  is 
but  one  echo  of  that  Voice  of  which  Nature  is  the  other,  has  always 
rendered  right  replies  to  these  profound  problems  of  the  mind. 

Can  we  know  anything  ?  No,  says  Herbert  Spencer,  at  least  inf er- 
enti-ally  ;  for  by  his  singular  doctrine  of  "  transfigured  realism,"  he 
leads  us  into  the  desei-t-land  of  hopeless  doubt  concerning  the  reality 
of  our  knowledge,  since  upon  his  fanciful  and  fantastical  hypothesis 
our  knowledge  is  not  actual  but  representative,  and  rejoices  only  in 
a  hazy  correspondence  with  the  objective  realities  around  us. 

Can  we  know  anything  ?  No,  says  the  whole  school  of  "  Rela- 
tivists," who  would  frame  for  our  guidance  a  philosophy  which  prac- 
tically denies  that  we  can  know  things  as  they  are. 

Can  we  know  anything  ?  No,  says  Descartes,  for  my  senses  are 
the  medium  of  my  knowledge,  and  they  are  unreliable,  and  can  and 
have  deceived  me.  And  how  could  he  know  anything  who  doubted 
the  validity  of  his  faculties,  the  force  of  necessary  truths,  and  such 
self-evident  axioms  as  the  capability  of  the  human  mind  to  acquire 
knowledge.  His  methodic  doubt  was  a  delusion  ;  there  was  no 
*' method  in  his  madness."  In  the  grave  of  universal  doubt,  he 
buried  himself  beyond  rescue,  and  beyond  resurrection.  He  can- 
not say  so  much  even  as  his  historic,  "I  think,  therefore  I  am." 
How  does  he  know  he  thinks,  if  he  must  doubt  the  fact  ?  "  My 
own  existence,"  he  replies,  "  cannot  be  the  subject  of  my  doubt.'* 
Then  neither  can  he  doubt  his  faculties,  for  they  are  bound  up  with 
his  existence,  and  the  same  evidence  supports  both.  I  may  exist, 
but  what  is  that  to  me,  in  view  of  my  knowledge,  if  I  do  not  know 
that  I  exist  ?  And  if  I  know  that  I  exist,  I  know  that  what  I  know, 
on  the  present  point,  I  do  know  ;  which  is  tantamount  to  saying 
that  my  faculties  are  trustworthy,  and  veracious,  and  do  not  deceive. 
Self -existence  is  asserted  in  the  very  act  of  doubting,  and  the  fact  is 
irresistibl}'  brought  home  to  every  sane  and  conscious  individual. 
But  Descartes  killed  the  goose  that  laid  the  golden  eg;g,  and  com- 
mitted philosophic  suicide  ;  for   his   destructive   principles   pulled 


72 

down  the  whole  fabric  of  human  thought  beyond  the  possibility  of 
repair  with  any  materials  furnished  from  the  debris  of  universal 
doubt.  Man  may,  and  does,  start  from  ignorance  as  the  beginning- 
of  investigation,  and  from  the  contemplation  of  self  and  the  expe- 
rience of  his  intellectual  acts,  can  discover  that  he  is  a  being  endowed 
with  an  interior  light  called  intelligence  ;  but  when  he  proclaims 
the  incompetency  of  his  faculties  to  find  truth,  or,  at  least,  suspects 
their  value,  how  can  he,  with  any  show  of  consistency,  invoke  the 
testimony  of  these  discredited  witnesses  in  corroboration  of  his 
dictum,  "I  think,  therefore  I  am." 

It  seems  we  cannot  know  anything.  For  all  along  the  corridor  of 
the  ages  stand  the  sceptics,  some  of  whom  made  their  doubt  a 
dogma  ;  while  others,  with  a  timidity  natural  to  such  minds,  were 
afraid  to  say  even  that  they  doubted. 

Modern  agnosticism  (a  term,  by  the  way,  lately  introduced  into 
our  dictionaries)  had  a  precursor  in  Bishop  Huet,  who  said  of  the 
two  schools  of  doubters,  "  They  know  nothing,  and  we  know  noth- 
ing, though  we  feel  uncertain  of  our  nescience."     Verily, 

* '  So  little  do  we  know  what  we're  about  in 
This  world,  that  I  doubt  if  doubt  itself  be  doubting." 

It  seems  we  cannot  know  anything,  at  least  with  certitude  ;  for 
traditionalism  is,  say  some,  the  only  criterion  of  certitude,  and  that 
criterion  is  a  frail  reed  to  lean  upon,  for  it  is  palpably  fallacious. 
De  Lammenais  gave  fresh  currency  to  this  doctrine.  He  taught 
that  a  few  primary  truths  were  received  direct  from  God  by  the 
first  man,  and  being  preserved  for  our  instruction  in  the  mental 
storehouse  of  humanity,  were  set  forth  and  elucidated  by  the  voice 
of  universal  testimony,  or  by  what  we  call  common  sense. 

All  such  hair-brained  theories  rest  on  the  ludicrous  assumption, 
that  human  faculties  have  not  the  natural  power  of  intelligence,  but 
must,  whether  by  the  revelation  of  primary  truths,  or  by  the  con- 
tinued concurrence,  or  rather,  positive  interposition,  of  divine  in- 
fluence, have,  as  Occasionalism  teaches,  their  work  directly  done  by 
God  Himself.  These  absurd  hypotheses  impugn  the  autonomy  of 
human  reason,  deny  the  reality  of  second  causes,  and  pave  the  way 
for  Pantheism  of  the  fiercest  form.  Some  of  these  alleged  "  doctors 
in  Israel "  spurn  the  notion  of  a  miracle,  and  yet  make  human  life 


73 

a  perpetual  miracle.  They  exaggerate  the  possibility  of  providen- 
tial interference  to  that  degree  that  we  could  never  be  quite  sure  of 
anything  without  the  active  influence  of  divine  intervention^ 
Too  proud  to  stoop  to  the  simplicity  of  the  teachings  of  experience  ; 
too  arrogant  and  self-sufficient  to  be  said  by  the  teachings  of  the 
wise,  and  rejecting  the  obvious  principle  of  causality,  many  fall 
back  on  Providence  for  everything.  I  heard  of  a  poor  man,  who, 
with  more  piety  than  prudence,  knelt  down  in  the  dust  and  prayed 
Providence  to  send  him  a  shovel  when  some  benevolent  stranger 
had  caused  a  ton  of  coal  to  be  delivered  at  his  gate.  Nicholas 
de  Cusa,  who  should  have  known  better,  wrote  a  brace  of  books 
to  demonstrate  the  impotence  and  incapacity  of  reason  in  its  striv- 
ings after  truth  and  the  absolute  need  of  divine  intuitions.  Many, 
with  confidence,  appealed  to  Scripture  for  the  sanction  of  their 
views  ;  but  it  were  well  if  they  had  heeded  the  Pauline  admonition, 
"  not  to  be  wiser  than  it  behooveth  to  be  wise,"  "  but  to  be  wise  unto 
sobriety."  But,  as  Augustine  says,  "  great  are  the  delusions  of  the 
great." 

Divine  providence  is  a  fact  and  factor,  both  in  physical  and  meta- 
physical science  in  all  legitimate  excursions  of  the  human  intellect,, 
and  it  cannot  be  ignored  without  putting  a  period  to  aU  philosophy. 
But  as  it  cannot  be  set  aside  too  lightly,  so  neither  can  it  be  invoked 
for  every  triviality,  and  without  any  shred  of  reason.  Extremes 
always  meet,  and  if,  like  Bayle,  some  outraged  God,  and  man  when 
they  banished  human  reason  out  of  sight  in  constructing  the  edifice 
of  faith  within  the  soul  ;  so,  in  like  manner,  others  went  to  the 
absurd  and  conceited  pitch  of  toplofty  folly  in  asserting  the  absolute 
sovereignty  and  infallibility  of  reason,  and  the  supremacy  of  philos- 
ophy over  truths  sent  straight  from  the  serene  heights  of  heaven. 

"  O  !  Star-eyed  science,  hast  thou  wandered  there 
To  waft  us  home  the  message  of  despair  ?  '* 

Far  be  it  from  our  minds  to  attempt  to  pluck  one  laurel  from  the 
bright-crowned  brow  of  philosophy.  She  is  the  mistress  of  the  mind, 
and,  after  theology,  the  queen  of  all  the  sciences.  They  all  depend 
on  her  for  their  principles  and  for  their  method. 

Unless  they  shone  by  her  reflected  light,  they  would  languish  in 
the  darkness  of  uncertainty.     Physical  and  moral  science,  the  indus- 


74 

trial  arts,  political  economy,  social  rights  and  duties,  law,  order,  his- 
tory, and,  in  one  sense,  faith  itself,  the  best  gift  of  God  to  man,  rest 
on  reason,  and  the  immovable  pillars  of  philosophy,  as  on  their 
indestructible  foundation.  The  question  of  objective  realities ;  of 
the  good,  the  true,  and  the  just ;  of  the  laws  and  destiny  of  the 
human  soul ;  of  the  origin  of  the  state  and  the  nature  of  society  ; 
of  the  connection  between  human  causes  and  events,  and  the  rela- 
tion of  human  hberty  to  the  providential  action  of  the  Creator  ;  and 
lastly,  of  the  motives  of  credibility  which  justify  a  rational  assent  to 
truths  beyond  the  range  of  reason — all  these  inquiries,  the  bases  of 
the  foregoing  sciences,  are  the  undisputed  province  of  philosophy. 
Here  stands  philosophy,  serene  and  majestic,  without  a  rival  and 
without  a  peer.  But  when,  unmindful  of  her  lawful  sphere,  philos- 
ophy would  measure  what  is  measureless,  and  reduce  the  standard 
of  religion  and  the  science  of  God  to  the  airy  conceits  of  her  shallow 
understanding,  her  proud  pretences  must  provoke  contempt  from 
the  wise  and  pity  from  clients  of  religion.  There  is  a  dim  mysterious 
twilight  in  the  regions  of  revealed  truth  which  the  most  profound 
philosophy  can  never  penetrate  ;  and  they  who,  like  Cousin,  proudly 
proclaim  philosophy  to  be  in  all  things  "  the  light  of  lights  and  the 
authority  of  authorities,"  are  serving  neither  religion  nor  philosophy. 

Despite,  however,  the  validity  of  argument  which  assigns  to  faith 
and  reason  their  respective  spheres,  each  revolving  in  its  orbit  with- 
out hindrance  to  the  other,  and  supporting  each  other  by  a  sort  of 
mutual  attraction,  we  suppose  the  conflict  between  error  and  truth 
must  be  eternal.  And  as  there  will  be  the  proud  to  plant  the  banner 
of  reason  on  heights  it  should  never  occupy,  so  there  will  be  those 
who  will  trail  its  gonfalon  in  the  dust  as  a  worthless  ensign  to 
humanity.  It  were  idle  to  recount  the  errors  on  the  one  aide  or  the 
other.     But  for  me,  I  prefer  the  sin  by  excess  to  that  by  defect. 

Some  attack  all  first  and  necessary  truths,  and  tell  us  there  is  no 
absolute  principle,  except  that  nothing  is  absolute;  and  destitute  of 
foundation,  reason  crumbles  to  nothing. 

Huxley  hews  down  the  props  of  physical  science,  his  own  passion- 
ate pursuit,  and  cuts  the  ground  from  under  his  feet,  when  he  calls 
in  question  our  certainty  for  the  constancy  of  natural  laws  in  the 
past,  while  granting  it  in  respect  of  the  present.  The  deadly 
destruction  of  Huxley  in  the  domain  of  physical  science  is  more 


75 

than  duplicated  by  others  in  the  metaphysical  world.  Blind  instinct, 
fatalism,  and  invincible  necessity  on  the  one  hand;  innate  ideas, 
divinely  infused  knowledge,  a  pretended  clairvoyance  of  intellect, 
and  a  groundless  traditionalism  on  the  other,  are  some  of  the  "  base- 
less fabrics  "  the  mind  of  man  has  constructed  when  surveying  the 
vast  boundaries  of  its  own  dim  interior.  Some  make  God  do  all  for 
us;  others  would  have  Him  do  nothing;  and  thus  a  kind  of  perpetual 
Pelagianism,  in  the  intellectual  order,  has  been  one  of  the  most  for- 
bidding features  of  philosophy.  Some,  perhaps,  builded  wiser  than 
they  knew;  others  building  as  they  thought,  did  not  foresee  the 
colossal  ruin  wi'ought  by  their  mistaken  labor.  When  Descartes 
made  all  truth  rest  on  the  divine  free  will,  so  that  had  God  chosen, 
necessary  tiTiths  would  not  be  true  at  all,  he  did  not  take  account  of 
the  fact  that  he  stabbed  all  truth  to  the  heart,  wiped  out  at  one  fell 
blow  all  distinction  between  error  and  falsehood,  and  rendered  in- 
capable of  demonstration  the  dearest  of  all  truths  to  us,  that  God 
cannot  use  His  omnipotence  to  make  us  the  ludibrium  of  divine  decep- 
tion. He,  perchance,  did  not  see  how  his  theory  of  innate  ideas 
denied  to  our  mind  the  power  of  forming  its  own  conceptions, 
forbade  us  to  pass  from  the  sensible  to  the  supersensible,  from 
sensation  to  thought,  made  all  our  certitude  cbme  from  God,  and 
our  very  idea  of  God  a  divine  infusion  or  communication;  thus 
planting  himself  in  the  centre  of  a  vicious  circle  in  proving  reason 
from  God,  and  God  again  from  reason.  No  wonder  that  the  "  Eagle 
of  Meaux  "  declared  that  he  foresaw  a  tremendous  conflict  between 
the  Church  and  science,  under  the  name  of  Caiiesian  philosoj)hy. 
Had  Descartes  reflected  that  we  do  not  pass  from  ideas  as  the  direct 
gift  of  God,  to  their  application  to  the  realities  within  and  without, 
but  from  facts  and  sensations  to  ideas  and  principles,  from  the  con- 
crete to  the  abstract,  from  the  known  to  the  unknown,  from  the  finite 
to  the  infinite,  from  the  created  to  the  uncreated,  and  God,  he  had 
spared  the  world  a  world  of  delusion. 

From  vain  hypotheses  and  idle  speculation  of  false  teachers,  let 
us  turn  to  the  pure  running  rivers  of  rational  philosophy,  fed  by  the 
crj^stal  springs  of  Catholic  truth. 

One  of  the  manifest  differences  of  man  from  the  brute,  and  one  of 
the  proofs  of  the  spirituality  of  the  soul,  is  the  power  of  reflection. 
When  the  mind  enters  introspectively  upon  itself  to  discover  its  own 


76 

laws,  and  reduce  tliem  to  system,  it  performs  the  wonderftd  feat  of 
reflecting.  Philosophic  knowledge  is  natural  knowledge,  "  rendering 
reflexly  to  itself  an  account  of  itself."  "  The  day  on  which  man  first 
reflected,  w^as  the  day  on  which  philosophy  was  born;  for  philosophy 
is  reflection  on  a  magnificent  scale."  And  that  day  was  the  day  on 
which  the  mind  gave  an  account  to  itself  of  itself  and  its  workings. 
Not  more  marvelous  than  necessary,  is  that  power  which  makes  the 
thoughts  of  the  mind  the  subject  of  its  thought.  To  give  an  account 
to  ourselves  is  something  of  wonderful  import  and  meaning.  And 
what  does  it  signify,  to  account  to  ourselves  for  anything  ?  It  means 
that  we  can  analyze  and  decompose  it,  run  it  into  its  elements,  and  by 
the  beautiful  alchemy  of  thought,  transform  it  into  ideas  which  we 
can  compare  and  test,  and  pronounce  on  their  validity  or  invalidity, 
their  truth  or  their  falsehood.  The  human  mind  reflects.  It  in- 
tellects, if  I  may  thus  speak,  itself.  It  reads  within  itself — Igere 
intus — and  thus  it  beholds  itself  within  itself,  and  thence  it  learns 
what  it  is  to  think.  It  sifts  all  its  windings,  dives  into  its  inmost 
depths,  beholds  the  wonderful  mechanism  of  thought,  the  springs  of 
knowledge,  and  by  the  instrument  of  dialectics  it  transmutes  all  its 
gleanings  into  elementary  conceptions,  atoms  of  thought,  as  it  were, 
and  thence  reconstrifcting  it,  evolves  the  laws  that  govern  its  own 
operations.  Is  the  mind  capable  of  this  achievement  ?  Yes  ;  for 
Catholic  philosophy  teaches  that  man  can  attain  to  the  knowledge 
of  the  truth,  and  this  he  could  not  do  unless  he  could  reflect.  AVhen 
do  I  know  anything  ?  Not  when  I  possess  some  ideas  concerning 
it,  for  ideas  are  but  the  germs  of  knowledge ;  but  when  I  know  that 
my  ideas  are  true,  or  when  I  know  that  I  do  know.  This  knowledge 
is  but  partial  still,  for  I  want  besides  to  ascertain  the  sources  of  my 
knowledge  ;  to  take  apart  the  mechanism  of  my  mind  ;  survey  the 
processes  of  thought ;  discover  the  strange  and  magical  manner  in 
which  the  material  objects  without  me,  are,  so  to  say,  refined  and 
sublimated  that  they  may  be  brought  into  contact  with  the  spiritual 
principle  of  intelligence  within  me. 

These  are  vital  and  fundamental  questions  ;  they  are  the  founda- 
tions of  philosophical  knowledge  ;  they  find  their  solution  in  •the 
penetrating  power  and  all-searching  wisdom  of  Catholic  scholastic 
philosophy,  whose  invincible  champion  is  the  '*  Angel  of  the  Schools." 
And   this  is  the  philosophy  of  common  sense,  the  philosophy  of 


77 

humanity,  founded  on  the  nature  and  constitution  of  man,  and  the 
essences  and  realities  of  all  objective  existence. 

That  it  cannot  create  an  intellect  of  its  own,  nor  diminish  the 
glory  of  the  one  God  has  given  us,  scholastic  philosophy  most  cheer- 
fully concedes  ;  that  it  cannot  even  know  an  intellect  which  has  not 
in  some  way  spontaneously  manifested  itself,  it  promptly  recognizes; 
and  hence  it  aims  not  at  synthetizing  a  philosophical  system,  which, 

"  As  imagination  bodies  forth 
The  form  of  things  unknown,  the  poet's  pen 
Turns  them  to  shapes,  and  gives  to  airy  nothing, 
A  local  habitation  and  a  name,", 

BO  would  be  no  more  than  a  fairy  fabric  of  the  same  gauzy  propor- 
tions ;  but  on  the  contrary,  it  seeks  only  to  reduce  to  harmonious 
dialectical  order,  and  to  refine,  elevate,  and  carry  to  their  highest 
activity  and  progress  the  faculties  and  principles  of  the  common 
knowledge  of  mankind. 

On  this  imperishable  basis.  Catholic  philosophy  takes  her  stand. 
Conscious  of  her  power  and  dignit}^  she  assumes  to  teach;  and 
beginning  with  the  most  elementary  principles,  she  traverses  the 
boundless  domain  of  human  knowledge,  nor  stops  in  her  steady  and 
progressive  flight,  till,  like  the  eagle  who  soars  athwart  the  very  eye 
of  the  sun,  she  fixes  her  clear  gaze  on  the  awful  verities  of  God.  On 
the  threshold  of  investigation  she  has  assurance  of  her  power,  for 
the  voice  of  unerring  truth  declares,  in  reference  to  the  reasonable 
defensibility  of  our  most  vital,  consoling,  and  necessary  truths,  that, 
"Reason  can  with  c'fertainty  establish  the  existence  of  God,  the 
spiritual  nature  of  the  soul,  and  the  freedom  of  the  human  will " 
(Sacred  Cong.  IndeXy  June  11,  1855). 

The  path  that  leads  to  these  serene  heights  of  science  is  thorny 
and  rough,  but  her  steps  never  falter,  and  her  eye  never  tires.  Crags 
of  error,  fastnesses  of  falsehood,  shadows  of  obscurity  bedim  and 
block  the  way;  but  she  scales  every  obstacle,  breaks  down  every  bar- 
rier, dissipates  the  shadows  and  the  darkness,  till  she  stands,  like 
the  triumphant  traveller  upon  the  mountain-top,  in  the  radiant  sun- 
shine of  the  heavens. 

Pass  with  her  along  the  journey  ;  mark  the  several  steps  she 
takes  ;  see  how  prudently  she  walks  ;  observe  the  false  guides  and 


78 

enemies  she  eludes,  as  she  treads  along  her  way,  pondering  and  un- 
folding worlds  of  mind  and  worlds  of  matter  to  the  greedy  gaze  of 
humanity. 

God,  she  teaches,  in  the  first  place  has  gifted  man  with  the  mar- 
vellous faculty  of  intelligence,  because  he  was  made  for  knowledge, 
for  love,  and  for  service.  The  powers  of  that  intellect  are  subject 
to  limitations  and  to  laws,  it  is  true,  but  these  lessen  not  its  native 
force,  nor  dim  its  fire  ;  for  it  rejoices  in  the  inherent  capacity  of  at- 
taining knowledge  by  its  own  creative  capacity,  the  capacity  of  form- 
ing its  own  conceptions. 

Refuting  false  theories  of  innate  ideas,  and  infused  knowledge  in 
the  natural  order,  she  explains  to  man  the  true  nature  and  origin  of 
his  conceptions  and  the  method  of  their  foundation.  She  unfolds 
to  him  a  world  without  and  a  world  within,  and  explains  how  an  ad- 
mirable union  between  both  is  effected. 

She  explodes  the  misty  bubble  of  idealism,  and  proclaims  the 
reality  of  objective  existences.  She  points  to  the  wonderful  power 
of  sense-perception,  and  shows  how  sensible  images,  true  to  what 
they  represent,  are  received  by  the  sentient  creature.  She  unravels 
the  intricate,  and,  as  it  were,  actinic  process  by  which  the  mind 
passes  from  sensation  to  the  subtlety  of  thought,  and  photographs 
upon  the  receptive  brain  a  picture,  an  image  of  the  nature  of  object- 
ive entities,  by  means  of  which  we  understand  them.  She  explains 
the  act  of  apprehension  by  which  we  grasp  the  first  notion  of  an 
object,  and  give  birth  to  our  ideas.  She  teaches  the  true  value  of 
those  ideas,  and  their  actual  coiTespondence  with  the  nature  of  those 
external  realities  they  represent.  She  develops  the  mental  process, 
and  passes  from  mere  apprehension  to  the  transcendently  grand  act 
of  judgment,  the  crowning  act  of  intelligence.  At  the  door  of  judg- 
ment she  stops  a  moment  to  post  the  caveat  "  beware,"  and  says, 
though  sense-perception  and  intellectual  apprehension  always  tell 
the  truth,  error  sometimes  insidiously  enters  the  mind  through  the 
gates  of  judgment. 

As  "  judgment  is  that  act  of  the  intellect  by  which  the  mind  joins 
or  separates  two  terms  through  affirmation  or  negation  ";  so  the  same 
philosophy  tells  us  how  from  one  judgment  we  proceed  to  another, 
and  thus  by  the  aid  of  comparison,  reach  the  formation  of  a  third, 
which  proceeding  is  entitled  to  the  honorable  appellation  of  reasoning. 


79 

She  stops  not  even  here.  We  have  not  two  intellects,  one  direct 
and  one  reflex,  but  one  ;  and  she  indicates  how  this  same  intellect 
can  turn  in  upon  itself,  and  account  to  itself  for  all  the  foregoing" 
operations,  and  survey  its  own  wide-extended  interior  by  the  marvel- 
lous process  of  reflection.  Thus  the  mind  can  think  thought,  or 
think  itself,  or  that  which  thinks  thought. 

Nor  is  this  all.  She  likewise  shows  how  in  thinking  itself,  the 
mind  thinks  everything. 

It  has  been  well  said  that  man  is  a  microcosm,  or  a  miniature 
universe.  Man  is,  in  a  sense,  whatever  is  ;  or  as  St.  Thomas  says, 
" anima  est  quoddammodo  omnia";  the  soul  is,  in  a  measure,  all 
things. 

It  is  no  groundless  analogy  that  certain  philosophers  seek  between 
the  human  composite  and  the  outer  world.  The  human  system  is 
justly  compared  to  the  earth  that  we  inhabit  ;  for  as  the  globe  is 
composed  of  three  parts  of  water  and  one  pai*t  of  land,  so  man  is 
composed  one-fourth  of  solids  and  three-fourths  of  liquids.  The 
solids  represent  the  bone  and  the  muscle,  and  the  fluid  is  the  blood 
that  rushes  through  the  veins  and  arteries  of  the  system.  We  thus 
behold  a  striking  similarity  established  by  the  Creator  between  the 
human  system  and  the  earth  wherein  we  live.  Thus  man  sums  up 
in  the  elements  of  his  being  the  several  constituents  of  the  cosmos  ; 
for  as  our  own  world  is  constituted,  so  we  may  suppose  the  vast  and 
circling  systems,  that  make  the  universe,  to  be.  As  Pascal  has  ob- 
served, man  is  neither  an  angel  nor  a  brute.  His  animal  natui*e  unites 
him  to  the  animal,  vegetable,  and  mineral  kingdoms,  and  his  mind 
bears  him  up  to  the  lofty  regions  of  spiritual  existence.  Hence, 
while  connected  with  the  material  universe  through  the  medium  of 
his  body,  he  is  raised  far  above  it  by  the  forces  of  his  mind,  which 
gives  him  the  knowledge  and  the  ownership  of  all.  In  naming  the 
human  creature,  God  called  him  man,  meaning,  in  the  language  of 
the  past,  to  think. 

By  means  of  his  intelligence,  he  obtains  a  knowledge  of  the  world, 
and  by  the  superintendence  of  the  same  intelligence,  directing  his 
liberty  and  will,  he  transforms  and  changes  that  world  in  accordance 
with  his  pleasure  or  necessity.  He  measures  his  path  across  the 
trackless  seas  upon  voyages  of  discovery  ;  he  levels  mountains,  fells 
forests,  reads  the  buried  secrets  of  the  under-world,  and  performs 


80 

those  prodigies  of  progress  whicli  we  call  civilization.  He  measures 
space  and  creates  mathematics  ;  breaks  down  barriers,  and  calls  it 
industry  ;  studies  the  course  of  the  stars,  and  names  it  science  ;  per- 
ceives notions  of  equality  and  justice,  and  founds  the  state;  beholds 
and  imitates  the  beautiful,  and  gives  birth  to  art ;  and  behind  all 
this,  above  all  this,  he  sees  an  unseen  and  omnipotent  power,  and 
bows  down  in  mute  acknowledgment  and  recognition  of  religion. 
His  mind  thinks  all  this,  and  thus,  thinking  itself,  it  thinks  every- 
1;hing.  In  a  word,  be  impresses  on  the  external  world,  in  some  de- 
gree, his  owm  personality;  exalts  it,  as  it  were,  into  his  own  immortal 
image,  and  communicates  to  the  gross  forms  outside  himself,  a  por- 
tion of  his  own  dignity  and  worth. 

But  here  lies  his  danger.  This  is  the  maelstrom  in  which  the  great 
minds  of  antiquity  were  engulfed.  The  passage  from  the  conscious- 
ness of  mental  power  to  Pantheism  is  not  so  remote  to  the  mind  that 
sails  the  sea  of  speculative  science  for  the  discovery  of  truth.  Man 
was  made  for  truth,  it  is  true,  but  he  makes  not  truth  himself  ;  he 
seeks,  he  finds,  he  discovers  it.  But  the  finder  is  easily  deluded  into 
the  belief  that  he  is  the  maker.  Catholic  philosophy  lays  down  the 
necessary  limitations.  It  teaches  man  the  extent  of  his  powers.  It 
neither  exaggerates  nor  disparages  them.  It  suffers  thought  to  rush 
with  lightning  speed  be^'ond  the  boundaries  of  the  visible  world,  but 
"from  the  visible  things  that  are,"  it  calls  on  man  to  consider  a 
power  greater  than  himself  or  nature, — the  God  who  enlighteneth 
all.  Chained  to  the  limits  of  a  concrete  existence,  man  sees  every- 
thing under  sensible  images  and  mundane  forms  which  his  judgment 
often  pronounces  on  erroneously,  and  bears  him  far  beside  the  truth; 
and  in  his  quest  for  the  precious  pearl,  he  will  often,  unless  the  star 
of  Catholic  truth  guide  his  course,  fail  to  find  that  which  is  the  cause 
and  the  model  of  all  perfections  discernible  in  the  world,  and  in  him- 
self. God  is  no  more  separated  from  the  world  than  He  is  con- 
founded with  it. 

"Thou  art,  O  God,  the  life  and  light 
Of  all  this  wondrous  world  we  see  ; 
Its  glow  by  day,  its  smile  by  night 
Are  but  reflections  caught  from  Thee." 
"  The  earth  is  crammed  with  heaven 
And  every  common  bush  afire  with  God." 


81 

It  is  the  grandeur  and  glory  of  faith  to  recognize  God  in  that 
Tvhich  does  not  visibly  contain  Him,  but  only  reflects  Him  as  a 
shadow. 

But  who  is  to  teach  man  these  things  ?  Who  is  to  guide  his  intel- 
lect that  it  may  not  go  astray  ?  Who  can  lead  the  way  but  the  pilot 
who  knows  it,  because  in  possession  of  the  truth  and  nothing  but  the 
truth? 

Without  truth  no  intellectual  progress  is  possible,  because  truth  is 
the  object,  the  life  of  the  intellect.  Every  presentation  of  truth  is 
the  perfection  of  the  intellect ;  every  denial  of  tnith  is  the  destiiic- 
tion  of  the  intellect,  in  so  far  as  it  can  destroy.  We  conclude,  with 
every  confidence,  therefore,  that  the  Catholic  Chiu'ch  alone  can  pro- 
duce real  progress  of  the  intellect;  for  she,  and  she  alone,  rejoices  in 
that  gift  of  infallible  guidance  which  corrects  the  errors  and  directs 
the  researches  of  the  human  mind  as  it  ranges  over  the  profound 
and  wide-extended  fields  of  philosophical  speculation  and  inquiry. 

Part  IY. 

The  moral  progress  of  the  world  is  likewise  due  to  Catholicity. 

The  will,  it  has  been  stated,  is  the  great  moral  power  of  humanity. 
But  what  is  meant  by  morals  ? 

The  word,  derivatively,  comes  from  the  Latin  mos,  custom,  and 
signifies  those  invariable  canons  of  conduct  which  men  observe  in 
the  operations  of  life. 

It  is  obvious  that  a  custom,  as  such,  does  not  make  a  thing  right 
in  the  moral  sense,  but  something  else  is  implied ;  to  wit,  a  conform- 
ity of  those  customs  with  the  natural  law,  which  is  the  fundamental 
rule  of  morals.  Custom  may  suffice  as  sole  arbiter  of  actions  which 
may  be  regarded  as  indifferent  in  themselves,  and  in  this  respect  the 
rhetoiician  says  that  custom  is  the  law  of  language.  ^'Mos  est  norma 
loquendV  But  since  there  are  no  indifferent  actions  in  the  individual, 
every  action  performed  by  man  is  said  to  be  right  or  wrong,  accord- 
ing as  it  squares  with  or  deflects  from  the  eternal  law  graven  by  God 
on  the  heai-ts  and  minds  of  His  creatures.  As,  however,  the  actions 
of  men  in  general  are  suppDsed  to  be  ruled  by  right  reason  and  com- 
mon sense,  which  is  nothing  else  than  a  participation  of  the  eternal 
reason  in  creatures,  we  can  argue,  from  the  customs  of  mankind,  that 
6 


82 

certain  actions  are  right  or  wrong,  moral  or  immoral,  as  they  possess, 
or  lack,  the  sanction  which  the  usage  of  mankind  confers  upon  them. 
The  science  of  morals  is,  therefore,  nothing  else  than  a  knowledge  of 
those  laws  which  regulate  human  acts  by  the  customs  of  humanity. 

Man  is  a  man  because  he  has  control  of  his  actions.  He  is  a  free 
agent,  competent  to  act,  or  not  to  act,  as  he  may  elect.  And  this  is 
the  consequence  of  his  nature,  for  it  is  rooted  in  his  liberty  and  intel- 
ligence. And  yet  sciolistic  Necessarians  have  impugned  this  truth 
and  denied  to  man  the  glorious  prerogative  of  free  will,  which  Catho- 
lic moralists  have  always  steadfastly  maintained.  John  Stuart  Mill 
and  others  of  his  school  have  practically  repudiated  the  self-acting 
power  of  the  will  in  attributing  so  much  to  influence  and  association,  as 
to  make  our  conduct  the  outcome  of  congenital  disposition,  character, 
circumstances,  and  environments  which  are  wholly  beyond  volitional 
control.  That  we  are  the  creatures  of  circumstances  in  so  far  as  we 
have  to  take  the  world  as  we  find  it,  is  manifestly  true;  but  that  cir- 
cumstances, be  they  ever  so  ineluctable,  can  govern  and  control  the 
exercise  of  our  free  will  to  the  extent  of  making  us  necessary  rather 
than  free  agents,  is  palpably  absurd.  The  will  of  man  is  an  imma- 
nent faculty,  subject  to  no  coercion  or  external  influence.  All  human 
acts,  properly  so  called,  are  free  or  voluntary,  and  so  far  as  they  befit 
man  with  respect  to  the  end  of  his  creation,  they  are  moral  acts. 

The  will,  therefore,  is  the  chief  factor  in  morals,  and  this  Catholic 
philosophy  has  always  insisted  upon  and  triumphantly  confuted  the 
hair-brained  advocates  of  necessarianism.  Nor  is  this  all.  The  ethics 
of  Catholic  teachers  clear  away  those  excrescences  which  others  have 
enwrapped  around  the  faculty  of  freedom  so  as  to  obscure  its  nature 
and  its  functions.  By  the  will  we  do  not  mean  feelings,  sensations, 
and  emotions  which  many  mix  with  volition.  It  is  a  native,  original 
principle  and  distinct  faculty  of  the  soul.  Physical  sensibility 
announces  to  us  what  is  painful  or  pleasurable  ;  conscience  teUs  us 
what  is  right  or  wrong;  passions  and  emotions  indicate  our  feelings; 
reason  declares  what  is  true  or  false  ;  but  it  is  the  wiU,  and  the  will 
alone,  which  can  make  a  choice,  can  select  an  object,  perform  an 
action,  or  do  the  contrary.  And  yet,  sooth  to  say,  outside  of  Catho- 
lic philosophy  the  most  conflicting  opinions  obtain,  and  the  most  pre- 
posterous doctrines  are  advanced  with  oracular  authority  upon  the 
functions  of  the  faculties  and  the  nature  of  the  powers  of  the  soul. 


83 

The  simple  little  child  who  learns  from  the  catechism,  that  as  in  God 
there  are  three  persons,  so  are  there  three  powers  in  the  human  soul, 
will,  memory,  and  understanding,  has  made  itself  master  of  a  better 
knowledge  of  psychology  than  those  astute  metaphysicians  who  map 
the  mind  of  man  as  the  pretending  explorer  writes  the  geography  of 
a  country  whereon  he  has  never  set  his  foot.  I  have  urged  this  point 
with  some  insistence,  for  the  fact  that  man's  will  is  self-acting,  as  a 
second  cause,  of  course,  and  is,  in  this  sense,  autonomous,  or  a  law 
unto  itself,  is  the  essential  condition  of  responsibility,  or  as  the  theo- 
logians say,  of  imputability  of  actions.  In  this  we  strike  the  root  of 
all  morality,  for  actions  are  neither  good  nor  bad,  from  the  moral 
view,  nor  are  men  any  longer  responsible  for  their  deeds,  if  those 
deeds  proceed  from  a  principle  in  the  soul  neither  free  nor  voluntary 
in  its  exercise. 

And  just  here,  perhaps,  it  is  not  inept  to  advert  to  those  who  up- 
hold  what  may  be  called  an  independent  morality,  ascribing  to- 
human  reason  a  soi*t  of  absolute  autonomy,  as  if  independently  of 
all  external  authority  reason  pould  decide  every  question  of  right  or 
wrong  and  determine  every  matter  of  morality.  This  is  simply  the 
deification  of  the  human  intellect,  and  it  is  the  sole  refuge  both  of 
dogmatic  atheists,  if  there  be  any,  and  practical  unbelievers.  Reason 
is  not  the  supreme  legislator.  Reason  is  not  the  final  arbiter  of 
morals  which  can  explain  all  duties  and  impose  obligations  upon 
itself,  apart  from  all  extrinsic  authority. 

Ethics,  it  is  true,  begin  with  human  nature,  and  declare  that  cer- 
tain acts  are  consonant  with  right  reason,  and,  therefore,  becoming 
to  man  as  man.  But  whence  is  derived  the  obligation  ?  The  idea 
of  duty  may  be  and  is  evolved  from  reason  ;  but  it  is  not  the  office 
of  reason  to  create  binding  force.  It  is  the  will,  and  the  will  alone, 
guided,  of  course,  by  reason,  that  can  impose  precepts,  decree  obli- 
gations, or,  in  one  word,  make  a  law.  But  whose  will  has  such 
authority  ?  Whose  will  gives  to  law  its  inviolable  sanctions  ?  Not 
the  will  of  man,  of  itself  alone,  for  what  right  has  an  equal  to  com- 
mand an  equal  ?  It  is,  therefore,  the  will  of  the  Supreme  Legislator, 
whose  will  is  absolutely  autonomous  and  independent,  that  can  make 
obhgation  for  mankind  and  give  law  to  rational  creatures. 

The  eternal  law  of  God  embraces  the  whole  of  creation  from  the 
lowest  to  the  highest  being  therein,  and,  in  its  physical  aspect,  it 


84 

begets  effects,  while  on  its  moral  side  it  creates  obligation.  This 
Law  is  the  remote  rule  of  morals^  and  it  is  as  immutable  and  infal- 
lible as  God  Himself.  Under  one  aspect,  it  is  the  good  Providence 
of  God,  reaching  powerfully  from  end  to  end,  and  disposing  all 
things  sweetly  according  to  the  destinies  unto  them  appointed.  In 
another  view,  it  is  God's  sovereign  justice  decreeing  rewards  for 
good,  inflicting  punishments  for  evil,  giving  sanction  to  authority, 
exacting  subjection  and  obedience,  revealing  the  nature  and  springs 
of  duty,  and,  in  general,  "justifying  the  w^ays  of  God  to  man." 

Now,  the  natural  law  is  but  the  participation  of  the  same  eternal 
law  in  man.  It  is  a  reflection  of  the  divine  light  shining  in  the  soul 
of  man  and  enabling  him  to  see  those  moral  distinctions  between 
right  and  wrong  which  are  antecedent  even  to  divine  commands  as 
made  known  by  the  light  of  revelation,  because  founded  in  the 
eternal  fitness  of  things.  Right  reason  is,  therefore,  only  the  voice, 
or  the  interpreter,  of  the  Eternal  Law,  and  this  law  aside,  it  has  no 
inherent  power  to  compel  duty,  or  enforce  obligation.  The  man 
that  acts  against  reason  is  entitled  to  the  appellation  of  fool,  for  he 
has  made  a  "sinner  of  his  judgment";  but  who  could  convict  him 
of  criminality  for  thus  behaving,  if  he  transgressed  no  higher  law 
than  that  of  human  reason  ?  Theologians,  as  St.  Thomas  tells  us, 
consider  sin  as  an  offence  against  God,  and  philosophers  regard  it 
as  an  offence  against  reason,  because  what  offends  reason  offends 
God.  But  relegate  Grod  to  the  background,  and  reason  may  con- 
demn man's  folly,  but  can  neither  punish  nor  prevent  his  crime. 
How  fatuous  and  illusory  is  the  aim  of  those  teachers  who  seek  to 
divorce  morality  from  religion,  and  propound  a  system  of  ethics  in 
which,  not  only  the  idea  of  God  and  of  man's  duties  towards  Him, 
but  even  the  mention  of  the  Deity's  name  shall  be  completely  blotted 
out.  And  yet,  outside  the  Catholic  Church,  such  is  the  notion  of 
education  that  sways  the  most  cultured  and  enlightened  minds.  Of 
this,  we  have  lately  had  a  striking  instance  in  the  conduct  of  those 
men,  who,  envious  of  the  success  of  the  Catholic  priests  in  teaching 
the  Indians  of  the  West,  exerted  every  nerve,  in  their  hatred  of 
Catholicity,  to  secure  the  suppression  of  all  denominational  instruc- 
tion in  the  Indian  schools,  even  seeking  to  exclude  the  name  of  God 
Himself  from  the  studies  of  the  pupils. 

In  exercising  the  practical  judgment  of  tlie  understanding  to  de- 


85 

termine  what  is  right  or  wrong  in  the  particular  case,  right  reason  is 
called  conscience.  There  is  such  a  thing  as  an  erroneous  conscience, 
but  how  eiToneous  are  the  judgments  concerning  conscience  outside 
the  Catholic  Church. 

This  is  the  rock  on  which  the  brightest  minds  have  foundered. 
Even  that  Titanic  intellect,  Dr.  Newman,  made  a  mighty  slip,  when, 
defining  conscience,  he  declared  that  it  was  always  emotional.  Con- 
science is  a  rule  of  conduct,  and  it  is  the  condition  of  responsibility, 
and  hence  it  must  reside  in  the  reason  and  not  in  the  emotional 
part  of  man.  Conscience  is  not  feeling,  it  is  not  sentiment,  it  is  not 
emotion  ;  it  is  simply  the  practical  judgment  which  every  man  pro- 
nounces concerning  the  morality  of  his  conduct  at  the  particular 
moment  of  its  performance.  Some  men  make  emotions  the  arbi- 
trators of  morals,  as  if  blind,  unreasoning  things  could  compose  a 
court  of  judicature. 

When  conscience  proclaims  a  deed  to  be  good,  certain  emotions 
of  the  soul,  no  doubt,  instantly  present  themselves  and  unmistak- 
ably announce  their  existence.  The  contemplation  of  virtue  and  of 
vice  must  necessarily  arouse  the  sensibility  of  every  man  not  mor- 
ally dead,  in  a  manner  corresponding  to  the  character  of  the  subject 
of  his  contemplation.  But  the  sentiments  or  feelings  thus  evoked 
are  not  the  primitive  judgment  of  the  mind  upon  the  morality  of 
man's  voluntary  actions ;  but,  as  Cousin  says,  they  are  but  a 
powerful  echo.  They  have  been  aptly  described  as  the  ministers  of 
conscience.  At  one  time  they  are  as  angels  of  light  and  sweetness, 
imparting  to  the  soul  a  lofty  elevation,  and  gladdening  the  heart 
with  an  exhilarating  enthusiasm  when  the  will  takes  complacency  in 
vii-tue,  goodness,  and  benevolence  ;  and,  again,  they  are  like  aveng- 
ing furies,  tormenting  and  punishing  the  rebellious  and  obdurate 
will  when  it  forsakes  the  path  of  righteousness  for  the  seductive, 
but  deceptive,  ways  of  vice.  And  yet  these  feeUngs  are  not  con- 
science, but  its  concomitants  or  consequences.  Conscience  lies  far 
deeper  than  these  things,  for  it  is  founded  in  the  very  laws  of  our 
moral  constitution. 

On  the  threshold  of  every  ethical  investigation  the  question 
occurs,  is  there  any  real  distinction  between  good  and  evil  ?  Nearly 
all  the  ancient  moralists  of  Greece  and  Rome  agreed  as  to  this  dis- 
tinction, yet  they  much  disagreed  as  to  what  this  distinction  was  in 


86 

itself,  and  how  man  came  by  it.  And  although  men  should  concur, 
in  the  abstract,  that  such  distinction  exists,  they  would  still  expend 
much  logomachy  in  determining  the  difference  in  the  concrete  case. 
This  is  the  case  to-day  beyond  the  pale  of  Catholic  philosophy.  .1 
have  met  men  in  these  States  who  soberly  and  gravely  maintained 
that  lying  was  no  sin  in  business  ;  that  bribery  was  no  crime  in  poli- 
tics ;  that  dishonesty  was  no  wrong  between  employer  and  em- 
ployed ;  that  polygamy  was  rooted  in  the  law  of  nature  ;  and  that 
it  was  lawful  to  shed  the  blood  of  those  who  differed  from  you  in 
religion.  Of  course  it  may  be  argued  that  these  men  are  excep- 
tions, and  only  perverted  their  reason  by  their  cupidity,  their  preju- 
dice, or  their  passion.  But  this  is  all  I  claim,  and  it  is  enough  to 
show  how  hard  it  is  to  find  all  men  in  agreement  on  the  most  ele- 
mentary distinctions  between  good  and  evil. 

Nevertheless,  all  men  have  a  conscience,  for.  if  a  man  has  no  con- 
science, he  has  no  reason,  for  what  is  conscience  but  reason  ? 

Moral  principles,  in  the  primary  order,  are  prior  to  experience  ; 
they  are,  as  it  were,  constitutional  principles  of  the  human  mind  ;  and 
the  human  soul,  by  the  very  principles  of  its  moral  constitution,  indi- 
cates that  there  is  an  indehble  and  eternal  distinction  between  good 
and  evil  which  holds  for  all  minds  and  all  ages.  But  the  question 
of  practical  duty  must  be  determined  by  each  man  for  himself  by 
the  faculty  of  conscience  ;  which,  though  it  has  a  manifold  affinity 
with  the  intellect,  inasmuch  as  it  judges  and  discerns,  yet  in  ethical 
inquiry  it  superadds  something  to  the  understanding  which  concerns 
itself  with  truth,  or  the  quid  est ;  conscience  occupies  itself,  not  with 
the  quid  est,  but  with  the  quid  oportet,  or  the  question  of  duty.  But 
this  question  is  settled  only  by  reference  to  external  authority,  or 
the  eternal  law  of  God. 

Conscience,  therefore,  reveals  a  law  to  us  with  authoritative  and 
binding  obligations.  Whenever  a  question  is  raised  in  the  mind  as 
to  the  moral  quality  of  an  action,  conscience  discovers  either  that 
the  act  is  conformable  to  reason  and  law,  and  therefore  permissible 
or  commanded  ;  or  that  it  offends  the  law  and  is,  therefore,  con- 
demnable  ;  or  that  it  is  indifferent  in  itself,  which,  however,  in  the 
case  of  immediate  action,  loses  its  indifferent  character  and  is  resolv- 
able into  one  or  other  of  the  preceding  cases. 

What,  then,  does  conscience  do  when  we  learn  its  voice,  interpret 


87 

its  dicta  for  ourselves  ?  It  declares  simply  what  our  duty  is  ;  what 
we  ought  to  do  or  ought  not  to  do  in  the  given  case.  Its  nature 
and  its  function  is  to  indicate  a  law  demanding  rigorously  our 
obedience.  Nor  is  this  all.  It  speaks  not  merely  in  the  indicative 
mood,  like  reason  ;  nor  in  the  optative,  like  the  wiU  ;  it  talks  with 
an  imperative  voice  and  proclaims  what  must  be  done  under  pain  of 
violating  reason,  or  under  penalty  of  sin.  "  Its  words  are  bonds ; 
its  oaths  are  oracles";  its  rules  are  obligations,  and  it  sits  upon  its 
throne  like  a  king,  ruling  the  vast  realms  of  morals  by  the  govern- 
ment of  mind.  "  Its  smiles  are  rewards  ;  its  frowns  are  reproofs. 
It  rests  on  its  own  prerogatives,  and  it  wears  the  crown  and  wields 
the  sceptre  whether  its  claims  are  acknowledged  or  denied.*'  ^ 

"Eight  reason,"  says  Cicero  (whereby  we  understand  conscience), 
"is  itself  a  law  congenial  to  the  feelings  of  our  nature,  diffused 
among  all  men,  uniform,  eternal,  calling  us  imperiously  to  our  duty 
and  peremptorily  prohibiting  every  violation  of  it.  Nor  does  it 
speak  one  language  at  Athens  and  another  at  Eome  ;  but  addresses 
itself  to  all  nations  and  ages,  deriving  its  authority  from  the  com- 
mon Sovereign  of  the  universe."  A  wonderful  testimony  from  the 
prince  of  pagan  orators  ;  but  a  higher  authority  than  he  has  said  : 
*'  They  who  have  no  law  are  a  law  unto  themselves  ;  who  have  the 
law  written  in  their  hearts." 

This  conscience,  then,  is  placed  within  us  by  the  hand  of  God 
Himself,  nor  is  there  one  *'who  feels  not  this  divinity  within  his 
bosom."  It  is  placed  there  as  the  pilot  of  the  soul,  to  be  its  guide, 
its  guard,  its  governor  in  revealing  principles,  subdmng  passions, 
and  prescribing  right  for  human  actions.  It  is  the  supreme  judica- 
tory of  the  mind,  where  decisions  are  imperative  even  when  eiTone- 
ous,  and  whose  judgments  are  answerable  to  no  tribunal  but  that  of 
the  immutable  law  for  which  it  must  ever  seek,  and  the  God  whose 
august  will  finds  in  the  law  its  embodiment  and  exj)ression.  To  this 
law  it  is  and  always  must  be  subject;  for  as  the  mind  does  not  make 
the  truth  which  falls  beneath  its  cognizance,  so  neither  does  con- 
science create  the  law  which  it  proclaims  to  man.  The  sun  shines  in 
the  heavens,  although  no  human  eye  beholds  it.  The  difference 
between  right  and  wrong  is  not  a  figment  of  the  fancy,  but  is  written 
on  the  fibres  of  the  soul,  implanted  in  the  radical  constitution  of  the 
mind;  and  conscience  is  but  the  finger  of  reason  tracing  out  this  dis- 


88 

tinction  and  ever  pointing  up  to  the  light  that  issues  from  the  sun  of 
the  Eternal  Law.  But  as  the  physical  eye  may  "become  deranged  so 
that  it  no  longer  beholds  the  light  ;  so  the  moral  eye  is  blurred  and 
blinded  so  as  not  to  see  the  law.  The  gusts  of  passion,  the  swell  of 
pride,  the  distemper  of  a  perverse  heart,  blind  the  eyes  of  the  under- 
standing  to  the  light  pf  trath,  and  erase  from  conscience  the  clearest 
lines  of  duty.  And  yet  amid  ail  this  haze  and  obscurity  the  index 
of  conscience  points  to  the  law  ;  amid  all  this  din  and  clamour  of 
turbulent  passion  and  unholy  strife  the  voice  of  conscience  ever  cries 
out  for  the  reign  of  reason  and  authority.  While  other  philosophic 
systems  ignore  these  truths,  the  ethics  of  Catholicity  incessantly  pro- 
^claim  them  trumpet-tongaed.  Nor  does  Catholic  teaching  desist  at 
this  point.  It  shows  how  conscience  must  connect  the  idea  of  law 
with  God  Himself.  The  law-revealer  in  the  heart  proclaims  the  Law- 
giver of  creation,  for  %  law  without  a  law-giver  is  almost  an  unthink- 
able abstraction.  The  sense  of  fear  tells  of  One  who  will  inevitably 
j)unisli ;  and  the  sense  of  responsibility  points  to  One  to  whom  we 
must  render  an  account.  The  great  Cardinal  Newman,  whose  recent 
demise  we  deplore,  develops  these  ideas  with  great  beauty  and  j)re- 
cision,  when  he  speaks  of  the  apprehension  of  God  through  the 
medium  of  the  conscience,  showing  how  conscience  involves  the 
recognition  of  a  living  object  towards  whom  it  is  directed,  and  that, 
too,  without  previous  experience  or  analogical  reasoning.  Whether 
or  not  it  be  so,  as  the  Cardinal  states,  that  the  dictates  of  conscience 
seem  to  be  congenial,  and  even  co-natural  with  the  initial  action  of 
the  mind,  one  thing  is  certain,  that  apart  from  that  system  of  Catho- 
lic ethics  which  is  founded  on  divine  truth  and  the  written  Word  of 
God,  and  aided  in  practical  morality  by  divine  light  and  grace,  per- 
fect notions  of  morality  are  with  difficulty  attainable,  and  man's 
moral  progress  all  but  impossible. 

But  the  ethics  of  the  Catholic  Church  are  not  limited  by  the  regu- 
lation of  conscience.  Man  must  know  not  only  the  distinctions 
between  right  and  wrong,  but  he  must  also  know  the  true  end  of  his 
existence,  and  how  it  is  attainable. 

Every  creature  has  its  pre-established  end  and  destiny.  To  act 
for  that  end  is  characteristic  of  a  rational  creature.  Some  creatures 
pursue  their  end  of  necessity ;  others  by  choice  or  free  will.  The 
end  is  attained  by  means,  and  the  means  chosen  must  be  conducive 


89 

or  adapted  to  the  end.  Every  human  act  is  performed  for  a  pur- 
pose, and  with  rational  creatures  that  purpose  can  be  no  other  than 
the  pursuit  of  happiness.  Happiness  is  the  end  of  man,  and  yet, 
though  all  men  seek  happiness  in  the  abstract,  not  all  place  their 
happiness  in  the  genuine  springs  thereof,  but  more  frequently  in 
goods  that  lead  to  infelicity  and  disquietude. 

**0  happiness,  how  far  we  flee 
Thine  own  sweet  paths  in  search  of  thee." 

Such  is  the  perversion  of  the  normal  operations  of  man's  will  that  he 
may  well  be  compared  to  sheep  who  have  gone  astray,  and  to  fools 
upon  whom  the  light  of  understanding  shines  not,  and  the  sun  of 
justice  has  not  risen. 

The  desire  of  perfect  happiness  is  the  outgrowth  of  man's  nature, 
and  hence  it  must  be  one  day  satisfied,  for  God  does  not  implant  a 
faculty  without  an  object,  and  it  would  be  a  vain  desire  if  essentially 
incapable  of  satisfaction.  Such  happiness  this  world  can  never  give, 
for  in  this  valley  of  tears  where  floods  of  grief  and  joy  swell  and 
flow  by  turns  happiness  has  not  its  home.  All  indeed  is  vanity  and 
affliction  of  spirit,  as  the  wise  man  says,  in  this  under  world,  and 
only  in  the  realm  of  the  King  in  His  beauty  shall  we  find  a  felicity 
in  which  joy  is  made  perfect,  and  humanity  crowned  with  glory. 

But  some  will  say  this  constant  quest  for  happiness  urges  men  on 
the  way  to  progress,  and  progress  leads  to  civilization.  Yes  ;  but 
civilization,  culture,  refinement. — these  are  not  the  end  of  man,  says 
Catholic  philosophy,  and  all  progress  which  leads  not  to  the  true  end 
of  life,  which  is  to  know  the  hfe  that  never  ends,  is  the  progress  of 
perdition.  Although,  even  in  the  natural  order,  the  object  of  perfect 
happiness  is  God,  still  men,  without  the  aid  of  grace,  could  not  attain 
the  object  of  their  hopes.  And  man  can  never  rest  satisfied  till  his 
mind  contemplates  the  height,  and  length,  and  breadth  of  truth,  and 
bathe  in  the  pure  springs  of  all  essential,  intellectual,  and  moral 
beauty  which  are  discovered  in  the  Eternal  Fountain  of  felicity  itself. 

But  how  shall  we  attain  this  glorious  consummation? 

Virtue,  says  the  Catholic  philosopher,  is  the  only  royal  road  to 
happiness.  But  what  is  virtue?  "Aye!  there's  the  rub."  All  are 
captivated  by  her  reported  charms,  and  yet  all  do  not  recognize  her 
face. 


90 

"  Vice  is  a  monster  of  such  hideous  mien, 
As  to  be  hated,  needs  but  to  be  seen." 

Yet  ail  do  not  seize  the  fair  lineaments  of  virtue,  though  it  is  so 
amiable  as  to  be  loveworthy  for  its  own  sweet  sake. 

Virtue,  says  the  philosopher,  is  an  acquired  habit  impelling  the 
faculties  of  the  mind  to  the  performance  of  deeds  or  acts  agreeable 
to  right  reason  and  human  nature.  Virtue  is,  then,  a  habit,  and  yet 
some  men  are  esteemed  virtuous  if  they  perform  a  few  shining  deeds 
of  patriotism  or  benevolence.  No  man,  says  the  i)roverb,  has  wisdom 
enough  to  last  him  always,  and  hence  the  habit  of  moral  virtue  must 
be  firmly  fixed  in  the  soul  or  rooted  in  the  will,  for  the  general  con- 
duct of  life,  and  the  government  of  the  passions.  Plato  felicitously 
compared  the  rational  soul  in  man  to  a  charioteer  driving  two  re- 
fractory horses,  one  of  which  needs  the  goad,  and  the  other  the 
rein.  The  horses  represent  different  classes  of  the  passions,  one  of 
which  must  be  restrained  by  temperance,  and  the  other  encouraged 
by  fortitude.  But  even  where  the  passions  are  rendered  subject  to 
the  control  of  reason,  and  the  soul  securely  established  in  habits  of 
moral  virtue,  it  is  to  be  remembered  that  the  object  of  felicity  is  not 
to  be  found  in  virtue  as  its  ultimate  term,  for  God  alone  is  the  final 
end,  as  He  is  the  first  cause,  of  man.  This  contention  is  of  para- 
mount importance,  for  there  exists  a  class  of  philosophers  who  set 
up  a  standard  of  natural  morality,  consisting  of  deeds  of  charity, 
benevolence,  and  good-will  to  men,  as  man's  highest  perfection,  ir- 
respective of  the  nobler  end  preordained  for  him  by  his  Creator. 

Socrates  placed  all  virtue  in  knowledge,  as  do  many  of  our 
modern  teachers,  and  ignorance  alone  is  vice  in  their  fallacious 
estimation.  Virtue  is  not  knowledge,  nor  is  ignorance,  when  in- 
culpable, vice.  "  The  evil  which  I  will  not,  that  I  do,"  says  the 
Apostle.  "  It  is  better  to  feel  compunction  than  to  know  its  defini- 
tion," says  A  Kempis.  And  again,  "  What  doth  it  profit  me  to  dis- 
pute learnedly  about  the  Trinity,  if  I  have  not  humility,  and  so  am 
displeasing  to  the  Trinity  ?  " 

True  virtue,  therefore,  consists  in  the  acquisition  of  those  habits 
which  befit  a  man's  rational  nature,  because  they  make  him  pleasing 
in  the  eyes  of  his  Creator,  and  are  referable  to  his  ultimate  end 
and  everlasting  destiny. 

I  conclude,  therefore,  that  Catholic  philosophy  is  alone  conducive 


91 

to  true  moral  progress,  because  the  whole  problem  of  ethics  is  con- 
cerned with  the  explanation  of  duty,  and  correct  ideas  of  duty,  such 
philosophy  alone  can  give,  which  explains,  unerringly,  the  true 
nature  of  right  and  obligation  ;  the  constitution  of  the  moral  faculty 
in  man,  his  will  ;  the  character  of  the  human  conscience,  and  its  cor- 
relation with  the  Eternal  Law  ;  the  nature  and  the  destiny  of  man  ; 
the  means  of  happiness,  and  the  object  of  felicity  ;  in  fine,  all  those 
relations,  arising  from  a  complexity  of  human  acts  and  habits,  which 
constitute  the  perfection  of  our  common  nature,  and  which,  properly 
defined  and  understood,  consistently  and  uniformly  acted  out  in  the 
programme  of  life,  make  moral  progress  possible,  because,  as  the 
needle  points  direct  to  the  pole,  so  do  they  advance  humanity  along 
the  only  road  of  improvement,  whose  ultimate  term,  find  last  and 
only-desired  end,  is  God. 

The  Catholic  Church,  therefore,  as  we  have  seen,  by  an  a  priori 
argument,  is  the  parent  of  material,  social,  intellectual,  and  moral 
progress,  and  by  consequence  of  progress  in  the  general  understand- 
ing of  the  term. 


Chapter  IIL 


We  have  now  arrived  at  the  second  part  of  this  essay,  in  which 
we  shall  consider  a  simple  question  of  fact,  and  that  fact  is,  briefly 
and  succinctly  stated,  has  the  Catholic  Church  promoted  the  prog- 
ress of  the  race  during  the  last  nineteen  centuries,  or  has  she  im- 
peded it?  Every  fact  is  demonstrable  by  evidence,  and  the  facts 
that  concern  the  human  race  are  recorded  in  the  annals  of  humanity. 
"We  therefore  interrogate  the  voice  of  history.  We  appeal  to  history 
as  the  sole  and  sufficient  arbiter  of  the  momentous  question  at  issue, 
not  indeed  for  our  own  conviction,  but  for  the  triumphant  refutation 
of  the  enemies  of  religion  and  the  foes  of  God.  As  this  ai'gument 
is  founded  on  experience,  we  call  it  the  a  posteriori,  or  experimental. 

When  the  light  of  Christianity  dawned  upon  mankind,  the  world 
was  overcast  with  profound  moral  gloom.  Gross  ignorance  upon 
all  subjects  affecting  man's  final  destiny  permeated  the  minds  of 
the  masses,  and  the  multitude  wandered  in  the  darkness  of  the  most 
degrading  superstitions.     In  the  firmament  of  truth  shone  no  soli- 


92 

tary  star,  and,  save  the  few  straggling  rays  of  primitive  revelation, 
the  light  of  true  religion  had  faded  utterly  away  ;  or,  like  the  sun- 
like enlargement  of  the  moon's  disc,  when  the  planet  approaches 
the  horizon,  the  delusive  radiance  of  a  false  philosophy  was  re- 
garded as  the  bright  sun  of  divine  truth. 

The  empire  of  vice  was  universal.  Temples  consecrated  to  pros- 
titution and  incest  were  erected  in  the  centres  of  culture  and  refine- 
ment, and  the  most  polished  cities  of  the  ancient  world  were  those 
most  delivered  to  the  enslavement  of  vice  and  devoted  to  the  deca- 
dence wrought  by  effeminacy,  sensuality,  and  the  brutal  indulg- 
ence of  the  passions.  Barbarous  in  their  domestic  habits,  corrupt " 
and  venal  in  public  life,  and  governed  by  pride  and  selfishness  in 
every  pursuit  they  followed,  patriotism  languished,  and  parental 
affection  expired  in  the  breast  of  a  people  who  esteemed  only  the 
amusements  of  the  amphitheatre,  the  intrigues  of  office,  the  con- 
tentions of  the  forum,  and  the  excitement  of  war  with  the  coveted 
glory  of  military  triumph.  The  deification  of  the  passions  was 
supplemented  by  the  apotheosis  of  emperors,  and  man-worship 
succeeded  to  the  Avorship  of  the  gods.  A  religion  which  was 
as  destructive  of  human  happiness  as  it  was  revolting  to  the  laws 
of  nature  enthralled  the  intellect,  polluted  the  imagination,  har- 
dened the  heart  and  closed  its  chambers  to  all  the  finer  feelings  of 
tenderness,  pity,  and  compassion.  The  blood  of  infants  and  of 
virgins  flowed  in  copious  streams  upon  altars  before  graven  deities, 
and  sacrifice  in  propitiation  of  the  gods  was  not  duly  consummated 
unless  the  altar-stone  was  whetted  by  the  blood  of  some  helpless 
human  victim.  A  few  favored  individuals,  like  Plato,  Seneca,  and 
Socrates,  in  force  of  superior  reason,  were  enabled  to  cling  to  the 
great  truth  of  immortality  and  bestow  glowing  encomiums  on  virtue; 
but  even  Plato  made  profession  of  never  speaking  openly  of  the 
true  God  through  fear  of  exposing  so  great  a  truth  to  derision  ; 
while  Cicero  declared  that  no  one  paid  attention  to  the  instructions 
of  the  moral  philosophers  because  none  of  these  teachers  was  as 
moral  and  principled  as  his  reason  required  ;  none  viewed  his  les- 
sons as  the  rule  of  his  life,  but  rather  as  the  display  of  his  wisdom  ; 
none  restrained  himself  and  observed  his  own  maxims,  but  yielded 
to  the  indulgence  of  his  lusts.* 

*Tusc.  Lib.  III. 


93 

Nor  was  the  case  much  improved  among  those  whom  God  had 
made  the  depositaries  and  conservators  of  His  truth,  till  the  day  of 
final  revelation  in  the  person  of  His  divine  Son  should  have  an-ived, 
and  the  Enlightener  of  the  World  should  have  dispelled  the  dai-kness 
upon  the  earth, — He,  whom  Plato  styled  the  great  Teacher,  for  whose 
coming  it  behooved  them  patiently  to  wait,  till  He  should  come  and 
"  teach  them  their  duties  towards  the  gods  and  men."  Although  the 
Jewish  people  had  positive  traditions  regarding  the  great  Deliverer 
of  the  race,  and  although  they  had  clung  with  invincible  constancy 
to  their  ancient  faith  despite  Egyptian  persecution^  Babylonian  cap- 
tivity, and  the  oppressive  exactions  of  Roman  domination,  they  were 
finally  divided  into  contending  factions,  whose  political  disputes  were 
aggravated  by  the  rancor  of  religious  differences.  One  party,  the 
conservatives,  ostentatiously  upheld  the  letter  of  the  Mosaic  jurispru- 
dence, and  the  customs  and  traditions  of  their  forefathers,  but  were 
strangely  insensible  to  the  inward  sense  and  living  spirit  of  the  law, 
which  they  perverted  and  distorted,  by  way  of  strict  intei-pretation, 
to  their  own  selfish  ends,  their  proud,  intolerant,  and  exclusive  spirit, 
and  their  narrow  and  contracted  views.  These  were  the  Pharisees, 
condemned  by  Christ  Himself  with  unsparing  severity. 

The  other  pai-ty  were  the  Sadducees.  This  was  the  movement,  or 
progressive  party,  who,  like  all  radical  reformers,  lapsed  themselves 
into  violent  irregularities,  while  attempting  to  improve  existing  con- 
ditions. They  believed  in  a  liberal  interpretation  of  the  law,  had 
but  meagre  respect  for  the  old  traditions,  and  appealed  for  support 
to  the  people  as  against  the  aggressions  of  the  ruling  classes.  Dis- 
tinguished by  latitudinarianism  in  morals,  epicureanism  in  philosophy, 
and  rationalism  in  religion,  they  believed  that  the  true  God  could 
be  adored  only  on  Mt.  Gerizim,  and  that  worship  accorded  to  the 
Deity  elsewhere  they  despised  and  held  in  sovereign  contempt 
Aiming  at  the  spirit  of  the  law,  they  sought  to  vilipend  the  letter, 
and  according  to  their  free  methods  of  thought,  they  imparted  a 
merely  human  interpretation  to  the  inspired  Word,  denied  the  im- 
mortality of  the  soul,  the  resurrection  of  the  body,  and  practically 
fell  away  from  the  faith  which  had  been  revered  and  believed  for 
centuries.  Distracted  by  internal  commotions,  jealous  and  mis- 
trustful of  each  other,  hopelessly  divided  in  politics  and  rehgion,  and 
goaded  to  desperation  by  the  constantly  renewed  exactions  of  their 


94 

Roman  conquerors,  both  parties  repined  over  the  departure  of  the 
nation's  former  glory,  but  were  too  enfeebled  bj  long  oppression 
and  too  divided  by  strife  to  raise  a  hand  to  save  the  Jewish  state  ; 
though  they,  finally,  in  the  energy  of  desperation,  made  the  futile 
attempt  to  regain  their  liberty,  which  culminated  in  the  horrible 
disaster  of  the  destruction  of  the  city  and  temple  of  Jerusalem, 
begun  by  Vespasian  and  completed  by  Titus. 

Such  was  the  lamentable  degeneracy  of  the  world,  when  He  came 
upon  the  scene,  who  though  He  said  His  "  kingdom  was  not  of  the 
world,"  also  declared  that  He  would  "found  His  charch  upon  a 
rock,"  and  that  '*  the  gates  of  hell  should  not  prevail  against  it." 

At  first  an  imperceptible  streak  of  light,  rising  mildly  amid  the  en- 
circling gloom,  its  effulgence  soon  overspread  the  tenebrous  earth, 
"  the  nations  beheld  it  from  afar,  and  the  gentiles  walked  in  the 
brightness  of  its  rising."  Though  the  powers  of  darkness  were  ar- 
rayed against  it ;  though  men  shut  their  eyes  to  its  dazzling  beams  ; 
though  every  human  agency  sought  its  extinction,  the  star  which  rose 
in  solitary  grandeur  and  shone  upon  the  path  of  the  expectant  shep- 
herds, was  destined  to  shoot  its  luminous  rays  into  every  corner  of 
the  earth  for  the  guidance  and  enlightenment  of  mankind. 

In  the  bosom  of  society,  as  it  flourished  under  paganism,  was 
found  no  principle  of  social  regeneration.  The  efforts  of  wise  rulers 
like  Trojan  and  Marcus  Aurelius  to  stem  the  tide  of  corruption,  were 
signally  abortive  and  deficient  in  results.  Nature  can  never  rise 
above  nature.  A  thing  is  bettered  only  by  that  which  is  better  than 
itself.  A  supernatural  principle  was  needed  to  purify  morals,  to  re- 
strain the  impetuosity  of  passion,  to  allay  the  fires  of  concupiscence, 
and  reduce  the  hearts  of  men  to  the  laws  of  obedience  and  self-denial. 
A  supernatural  light  was  required  to  illumine  the  darkness  of  the 
intellect,  to  enlighten  the  understanding,  and  point  men  the  path  to 
peace,  to  order,  to  virtue,  to  a  higher  life  than  that  indicated  by  the 
gropings  of  a  debauched  and  grovelling  reason. 

The  first  triumph  of  the  Catholic  Church  of  Christ  was  over  the 
reason  and  intellect  of  man.  She  elevated  that  reason  to  a  higher 
order.  Christianity,  indeed,  confers  no  new  faculty  upon  the  under- 
standing, but  it  widens  its  scope  and  range  by  presenting  to  its 
grasp  the  truths  of  an  order  otherwise  beyond  its  ken,  as  well  as 
by  enlarging  its  comprehension  of  truths  within  the  natural  order. 


95 

and  thus  it  contributes  to  the  perfection  of  the  intellect,  because,  as 
the  mind  was  made  for  truth,  every  presentation  of  truth  must  con- 
duce to  the  perfection  of  the  mind.  Even  as  to  those  truths  which,  as 
the  Vatican  Council  declares,  men  may  know  by  the  unassisted  light 
of  reason,  how"  confused  were  the  brightest  minds  among  the  an- 
cient sages,  and  how  impotently  did  they  strive  to  solve  those  prob- 
lems of  life  and  destiny  which  the  glimmerings  of  reason  but  faintly 
unfolded.  Who  among  them  did  not  ask,  as  Pilate  did:  What  is 
truth  ?  Wlio  among  them  did  not  anticipate  by  many  centuries  the 
poet's  plaint  ? 

"  What  mark  does  truth,  what  bright  distinction  bear  ? 
How  do  we  know  that  what  we  know  is  true  ? 
How  shall  we  falsehood  fly,  and  truth  pursue  ?  " 

But  to  see  the  good  is  little  good  unless  we  pursue  the  good. 

Video  meliara,  prdboque  ;  deteriora  sequor. 

And  the  pagan  writer  here  only  tersely  expresses  the  deplorable  im- 
potency  of  human  natui-e  to  do  the  good  which  is  congruent  with  it, 
when  struggling  after  that  which,  by  its  native  powers,  is  practically 
unattainable. 

The  liberation  of  the  human  will  from  the  tyranny  of  passion,  and 
its  emancipation  through  the  glorious  and  unfettered  liberty  of  the 
Gospel,  was  the  consequence  of  the  teachings  of  the  Chui'ch  of 
Clirist.  The  Church  took  man  as  a  moral  unit,  and  by  her  disclos- 
ure of  the  truth  in  its  beauty  and  fullness,  by  the  sacramental  action 
of  her  treasures  of  ledeeming  grace  and  love,  transformed  and  ele- 
vated, while  it  roundly  developed  the  whole  man.  No  system  of 
human  ethics  could  accomplish  this  marvellous  transformation. 
Steeped,  as  he  was,  in  sensuality  and  ignorance,  neither  Platonic 
lore  nor  Socratic  wisdom  could  lift  man  out  of  the  abysmal  depths 
into  which  the  primal  Fall,  and  his  own  constantly  accelerating 
crimes,  had  plunged  him.  In  the  Christian  religion  alone  man  could 
find  that  light  which,  first  emerging  from  the  primitive  revelation, 
was  crystallized  in  the  doctrines  of  a  divine  Kedeemer,  and  which 
beaming  forth  more  brightly  with  the  course  of  ages,  has  regenerated 
society,  altered  the  whole  system  of  human  life,  and  been  the  cause 
of  all  the  subsequent  progress  of  mankind. 


9? 

It  is  surprisingly  difficult  for  the  mind  of  man  to  transcend  pres- 
ent conditions  and  environments.  We  judge  of  things  as  they 
affect  our  senses,  and  especially  our  sense  of  sight,  and  no  profound 
philosophy  is  required  to  inform  us  that  ideas  generated  by  visual 
experience  are  more  tangible  and  impressive  than  those  produced 
by  the  action  of  the  other  senses  ;  as,  perhaps,  for  similar  reasons, 
the  knowledge  born  of  experience  seems  more  substantial  than  that 
which  reposes  on  authority.  Here  arises  the  obstruction  to  passing 
just  judgment  on  bygone  ages,  and  upon  the  causes  and  events 
which  distinguished  them,  as  well  as  the  actors  concerned  in  the 
doings  of  far-off  times.  We  make  the  fatal  error  of  estimating 
things  past  by  present  lights,  without  attempting  to  transiDoi-t  our- 
selves, in  thought  at  least,  to  other  times  and  places.  It  seems  to 
us  that  had  we  lived  in  the  days  of  Lycurgus,  we  would  have  dined 
on  something  more  savory  than  Sj^artan  broth,  and  had  we  been  at 
the  Council  of  Salamanca  we  would  have  shown  the  Genoese  Navi- 
gator a  direct  route  to  a  new  world.  But  much  as  we  pride  our- 
selves on  our  present  superiority,  there  is  no  valid  reason  to  suppose 
that  had  we  flourished  at  other  periods,  our  ideas,  our  manners,  or 
our  lives  would  have  been  essentially  different  from  those  of  them 
by  whom  we  were  surrounded  ;  there  is  every  reason  to  assume  the 
contrary. 

In  like  manner,  after  centuries  of  civilization  and  enlightenment; 
after  ages  of  effort  on  the  part  of  Christianity  to  relume  and  reform 
the  earth,  it  is  no  easy  task  for  us  to  understand  the  dark  depravity 
of  that  period  at  which  the  light  of  the  Gospel  first  dawned  upon  a 
bewildered  world.  One  thing  alone  can  teach  us  the  true  idea  of 
the  moral  obliquity  of  pagan  times,  and  that  is,  that  despite  the  in- 
nate love  of  truth  that  burns  in  the  breast  of  man;  despite  the 
horoic  lives  of  the  early  Christians;  despite  the  convincing  proofs 
that  accompanied  the  introduction  of  the  Christian  religion  and  at- 
tested the  divinity  of  its  doctrines:  it  nevertheless  encountered  the 
most  unrelenting  opposition  and  its  followers  the  most  truculent  per- 
secution that  hatred  could  conceive  or  malignity  execute.  But  the 
Church  of  God  rose  triumphantly  over  all  assaults,  because  she  was 
upheld  of  God.  With  the  advent  of  Constantine,  Christianity  be- 
came a  ruling  power  in  the  world,  and  with  the  supremacy  of  Chris- 
tianity the  crisis  between  the  ancient  and  the  modern  world  was 


97 

bridged  over  and  tlie  era  of  progress  and  civilization  began  its  irre- 
sistible march.  The  Church  passed  her  hand  over  the  chaotic  ele- 
ments, with  heavenly  skill  and  organizing  force,  and  there  came 
forth  the  beauty  of  a  divine  transfiguration.  A  new  principle  of  life 
had  sprung  into  being,  vivifying  the  earth  by  its  wondrous  power 
and  producing  Hfe  differing  from  all  preceding  forms  of  existence. 
This  principle  was  the  energizing  spirit  of  Christianity,  introducing 
by  its  action  upon  discordant  and  repellant  elements  a  new  or  a 
second  creation,  just  as  the  Spirit  of  God  brooding  over  the  formless 
void  called  into  being  a  first  creation.  The  rapid  diffusion  of  her 
doctrines;  the  courageous  resistance  of  her  adherents  to  all  forms  of 
persecution;  the  sublime  purity  of  her  principles,  preserved  from 
age  to  age,  without  corruption  or  deviation,  attracted  to  her  the  at- 
tention of  mankind  as  the  most  remarkable  historical  occuiTence  in 
the  whole  course  of  human  annals,  and  proclaimed  her  to  be  futura 
mistress  of  states,  government,  science,  and  civilization. 

Modern  civilization  is  not  the  continuation  of  pagan  civilization, 
but  is  the  creation  of  the  Catholic  Church.  Its  component  elements 
are  twofold,  moral  and  material ;  and  wliile  the  first  was  absolutely 
created,  the  second  was  incalculably  promoted  by  the  action  of  the 
Church.  The  features  of  moral  civihzation,  as  Cardinal  Manning 
has  pointed  out,  are  :  1,  The  Christian  household  created  by  the  sac- 
rament of  Christian  marriage  ;  2,  the  Christian  people  formed  by 
Christian  education  ;  3,  the  Christian  State  elevated  by  the  higher 
law  of  Christian  morals. 

Of  Christian  man*iage  and  Christian  education  full  treatment  has 
been  made  in  other  pages  ;  here  it  is  necessary  to  refer  to  the  Chiistian 
State 

The  Christian  State  is  simply  the  temporal  sovereignty  "  elevated 
by  the  higher  law  of  Christian  morals  "  to  a  plane  of  Christian  action. 
Like  the  social  authority,  in  all  times  and  conditions,  its  power  lies 
within  tlie  temporal  order  ;  its  rule  lies  over  the  ordering  of  those 
things  which  concern  natural  right  and  the  natural  end  of  man,  and 
pertain  to  the  tranquillity  and  stability  of  society  ;  but  at  the  same 
time  it  does  not  lose  sight  of  man's  supematui'al  end,  and  its  purpose 
is  to  so  order  man's  civil  relations  that  it  may  facilitate  the  attainment 
of  the  ultimate  end  of  man.  Thus,  it  does  not  rest  on  the  i^rinciple 
laid  down  by  Aristotle,  that  the  State  exists  for  itself.  It  recognizes 
7 


98 

that  its  authority  springs  from  God's  appointment,  to  whom  it  is 
accountable  in  its  rulers,  since  it  is,  as  the  Apostle  says,  "  the  minister 
to  man  for  good."  The  Christian  State  is  that  which  dwells  in 
amity  and  concord  with  the  spiritual  power,  in  no  wise  encroach- 
ing upon  the  Church's  jurisdiction,  impairing  her  free  action,  or 
impeding  the  exercise  of  her  rights  ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  harmo- 
nizing, on  all  conceivable  lines  within  its  proper  sj)here,  with  the 
Church  in  its  action  and  influence  upon  society.  Under  the  Christian 
State  the  two  powers  are  united,  and  yet  they  are  distinct  ;  they  are 
in  one  sense  co-ordinate,  but  in  another  subordinate  ;  one  human, 
the  other  superhuman  ;  one  natural,  the  other  supernatural.  Where 
the  Christian  State  exists,  the  laws,  authority,  and  institutions  of  the 
Church  are  both  recognized  and  respected  ;  and  that  ideal  relation 
designed  by  God  and  aptly  likened  to  the  union  of  Christian 
marriage,  is  fostered  and  promoted  between  Church  and  State.  This 
was  the  lofty  ideal  contemplated  by  Gregory  the  Great  before  the 
close  of  his  remarkable  Pontificate,  and  was  also  entertained  by 
Charlemagne. 

Such  was  the  Christian  State  created  by  the  Church.  It  had  no 
existence  in  the  pagan  era.  Under  the  pagan  constitution  of  the 
State  the  civil  and  religious  functions  were  exercised  by  the  same 
authority  and  centered  in  the  same  person.  Thus  the  State  was  not  re- 
ligious, but  was  religion.  Keligious  unity,  when  maintained  and  sup- 
ported by  political  institutions,  is  an  appreciable  benefit  to  man  and 
society  ;  but  this  benefit  becomes  a  bane  when  the  State  itself  usurps 
the  office  and  authority  of  religion.  Liberty  of  conscience  is  then 
proscribed,  and  the  Church  is  subordinated  to  the  State,  and  often 
reduced  to  complete  subjection.  By  consequence,  the  national  religion 
becomes  the  only  true  religion,  and  all  others  are  banished  as 
pernicious  and  impious.  The  distinction  of  the  two  powers,  entirely 
consistent  with  their  co-operation,  and  which  is  the  only  true  con- 
dition of  social  life,  unknown  to  Paganism  and  first  promulgated  by 
the  Gospel,  was  never  realized  except  through  the  influence  of 
Christianity,  or  the  Catholic  Church. 

Outside  of  Catholicity  real  civil  liberty  had  never  had  existence, 
and  civil  liberty  is  the  foundation  of  the  State.  Under  the  pagan  State 
individualism  was  a  negative  factor  in  society,  but  the  Catholic 
Church  always  opposed  the  encroachments   of   the    civil  authority 


99 

upon  the  right  of  the  individual,  and  to  her  influence,  running 
through  the  social  economy  of  the  Middle  Ages,  is  modern  society 
indebted  for  her  civilization  and  freedom.  Civil  and  political  liberty 
are  founded  upon  the  fundamental  truth  of  man's  equality  with 
man,  and  the  fact  that  man  as  man  has  no  authority  over  man,  except 
what  has  been  delegated  to  him,  whether  mediately  or  immediately, 
by  God.  But  the  Church,  while  maintaining  the  distinction  of 
the  two  powers,  exercised  her  right  to  establish  the  absolute 
condition  of  Christian  truth  in  its  relation  with  the  civil  and  political 
power.  Obedience  to  legitimate  authority  was  enjoined  by  her  as 
of  divine  law,  but  the  exactions  and  tyrannies  of  princes  she  con- 
demned with  tireless  and  courageous  voice.  She  fought  with 
indomitable  perseverance  against  the  revival  of  pagan  materialism, 
the  corruptions  of  the  renaissance,  and  the  despotism  of  kings  and 
governments.  She  rallied  to  the  rescue  of  society  when  it  was 
menaced  by  the  tyranny  of  the  feudal  system,  by  political  anarchy, 
by  universal  serfage,  by  the  prevalence  of  might,  and  when  without 
her  timely  interposition  civil  liberty  would  have  expired.  But  for 
the  tireless  energy  of  her  sovereign  inilers,  her  Gregorys,  her  Innocents, 
her  Bonifaces,  and  her  JuHans,  the  hard-won  fruits  of  her  victory 
over  Paganism  would  have  been  annulled  by  the  triumphant  restora- 
tion of  Csesarism  and  State  absolutism  in  the  countries  but  recently 
converted  to  the  light  of  Christianity  by  the  influence  of  her  teachings. 
Strange  to  tell,  it  was  the  German  sovereigns,  so  much  distiaguished 
for  their  rugged  individuality  and  so  readily  converted  by  the 
Church,  who  were  concerned  with .  transplanting  into  Europe  the 
laws,  customs,  and  morals  of  the  East. 

The  Church  planted,  by  the  sanctions  of  religion,  the  civil  author- 
ity upon  h.  rock  ;  but  at  the  same  time  justified  resistance  to  civil 
power  under  certain  circumstances,  and  upheld,  for  the  consolation 
of  mankind,  the  cheering  doctrine  that  unjust  authority  was  no 
authority  at  all. 

Her  most  unsparing  blows  were  levelled  at  the  institution  of 
slavery.  The  institution  of  slavery  is  inimical  to  the  permanent 
progress  of  every  State  ;  but  such  is  the  consecration  of  vested 
Tights  that  they  are  relinquished  with  supreme  reluctance  and  often 
with  the  utmost  violence.  This  was  eminently  so  with  slavery,  and 
those  who  reproach  the  Church  with  her  tardiness  in  securing  the 


100 

manumission  of  slaves  should  look  back  on  the  civil  war  in  the 
United  States  and  count  in  blood  the  cost  of  Lincoln's  proclama- 
tion of  emancipation.  All  the  philosophers  of  antiquity,  Zeno  and 
Epicurus,  Epictetus  and  Plato,  considered  slavery  as  inherent  in  the 
very  nature  of  civil  society,  and  even  Aristotle  is  at  pains  to  justify 
its  existence  and  necessity.  The  Catholic  Church  sealed  the  doom 
of  slavery.  She  embraced  the  poor  slave  to  her  bosom,  and  elevated 
him  to  her  highest  dignities.  "  There  is  neither  bond  nor  free,  for 
all  are  one  in  Christ  Jesus."  This  was  the  solution  of  the  problem, 
and  were  it  not  for  the  example  of  the  Church  in  liberating  her  own 
slaves  and  the  powerful  influence  of  her  voice  in  counselling  others  to 
do  the  same,  the  curse  of  slavery  would  still  afflict,  perhaps,  the 
whole  civilized  world,  and  the  misery  now  weighing  like  a  nightmare 
upon  the  Oriental  nations  would  also  harass  the  most  enlightened 
countries  of  the  west.  No  power  on  earth  could  have  accomplished 
the  abolition  of  slavery,  save  the  power  of  her  who  could  proclaim 
with  divine  accent,  that  £ill  men  were  equal  before  God,  and  there- 
fore equal  to  one  another ;  that  all  were  children  of  a  common 
Father,  and  all  were  therefore  brothers. 

Besides  the  liberation  of  man,  the  exaltation  of  woman  was  due  to 
the  teaching  and  influence  of  the  Church.  The  recognition  of  the 
Virgin  Mary  as  the  Mother  of  God  was  the  rational  motive  for  re- 
storing the  female  sex  to  the  position  of  dignity  and  honor  so  long 
withheld.  Mary  was  the  model  of  her  sex  and  the  mirror  of  true 
womanhood,  but  she  also  was  a  vessel  of  virginity  and  a  paragon  of 
purity.  Woman,  hitherto  in  disgrace,  should  henceforth  be  honored, 
because  God  Himself  had  honored  her.  No  longer  the  slave  of 
man's  lust  and  passions,  she  was  to  be  esteemed  as  his  helpmeet  and 
honored  as  his  equal.  Paganism  had  subjected  her  to  a  degrading 
inferiority,  and  had  regarded  her  as  the  minister  to  man's  unholy 
passion.  The  written  page  would  blush  to  record  the  unmention- 
able atrocities  of  which  helpless  woman  was  the  victim  in  the  pre- 
Christian  era.  Juvenal  in  his  famous  satires  lets  some  light  on  the 
scene,  and  no  pencil  could  paint  with  too  dark  a  coloring  the  indig- 
nities put  upon  the  sex  at  periods  when  the  immortal  Plato  wrote 
his  Republic  to  urge  the  foundation  of  a  State  in  which  not  only  a 
community  of  goods,  but  a  community  of  wives  should  obtain  and 
no  man  should  be  embarrassed  with  the  knowledge  of  his  paternity 


101 

Under  the  benign  influence  of  the  teachings  of  the  Church,  woman 
became  the  object  of  man's  respect,  reverence,  and  love.  Her 
whom  he  had  formerly  looked  upon  as  a  vessel  of  vileness,  became  a 
"  vessel  of  honor,"  to  borrow  a  sacred  expression  ;  and  she  whom  he 
had  treated  with  contempt  and  coldness  he  regarded  with  tender- 
ness and  veneration. 

The  same  refinement  of  feeling  and  gentleness  of  manners  ex- 
tended through  the  whole  structure  of  society  when  the  Church 
came  to  inculcate  the  meekness  and  docility  of  the  Gospel  as  the 
true  standard  of  human  conduct.  Even  in  ages  now  esteemed  as 
but  semi-civilized,  the  urbanity  of  manners,  the  mildness  and  lenity 
of  public  officials,  the  offices  of  courtesy  and  kindness  among  aU 
grades  of  society,  would  serve  as  a  salutary  lesson  to  the  hauteur,  the 
superciliousness,  and  the  hollow,  civilized  mockeries  of  social  forms 
in  the  present  much-vaunted  progress  of  society. 

The  miraculous  nature,  as  it  may  be  styled,  of  the  social  trans- 
formation may  be  duly  appreciated  by  reflecting  on  the  character  of 
those  peoples  who  were  the  subject  of  this  prodigious  change.  They 
were  the  barbarians  of  the  North. 

With  the  disappearance  of  the  Roman  Empire  in  486,  the  Church, 
the  true  civilizer,  brought  the  torch  of  faith,  the  light  of  civil  liberty,  to 
the  barbaric  hordes  of  the  North,  or  rather  they  came  to  her  in  the 
first  instance  to  behold  the  light. 

The  fortifications  of  the  Roman  frontier  opposed  no  effectual  bar- 
rier to  the  assault  of  the  barbarians  as  they  poured  out  of  their  rug- 
ged fastnesses  from  the  dark  forests  of  Germany  to  plunder,  de- 
spoil, and  lay  waste  the  civilization  of  centuries.  They  conquered 
Rome,  indeed,  but  were  in  turn  conquered  by  the  power  of  Chris- 
tian faith  and  love.  Only  to  the  eye  of  faith  is  revealed  the  secret  of 
this  immortal  triumph  of  the  Church  over  the  untamed  and  unmit- 
igable  ferocity  of  nations  who  swept  down  upon  works  of  the 
ancient  world,  as  the  typhoon  riots  upon  the  sandy  plains,  or  as  the 
tornado  convulses  the  sea.  The  finger  of  God  was  here.  The  only 
explanation  is  found  in  the  doctrine,  the  miracles,  and  the  grace  of 
Jesus  Christ.  In  the  progress  of  civilization  the  designs  of  Provi- 
dence are  always  manifest  to  the  mind  of  the  pious  believer,  both  in 
the  particular  and  in  the  general  phenomena  of  history.  Under  the 
good  Providence  of  God,  the  Church  was  the  saviour  of  society  and 


102 

the  preserver  of  the  old  civilization  which  she  linked  to  the  new,  and 
thus  gave  possibility  and  actuality  to  the  great  march  of  humanity. 
If  the  irruption  of  the  wild  hordes  of  Northern  Europe  had  not  been 
stayed  in  its  impetuous  course  ;  if  there  had  been  no  Leo  to  check 
the  "  Scourge  of  God,"  as  Attila  was  styled,  no  imagination  could 
picture  the  "  splendid  desolation  "  that  would  have  overtaken  all  the 
grandeur  of  human  achievement  from  the  dawn  to  the  decline  of 
Rome's  imperial  power.  Every  monument  of  antiquity  would  have 
perished  ;  every  throne  would  have  crumbled  into  dust;  every  ves- 
tige of  civilization  would  have  vanished,  and  left  the  world  in  Cim- 
merian gloom  which  no  light  could  ever  penetrate. 

With  patient  toil  the  Church  gathered  up  the  fragments  of  ancient 
learning  which  remained  after  the  deluge  of  barbarism  had  subsided^ 
and  securely  sheltered  them  in  her  archives  for  the  delight  and  in- 
struction of  posterity.  Vandalism  could  no  longer  touch  them.  For 
more  than  five  centuries,  as  Hallam  says,  learning  was  confined  to 
her  bosom,  and  she  "  kept  it  flowing  in  the  worst  of  seasons,  a  slen- 
der but  living  stream."  The  ancient  literature  of  Greece  and  Rome 
were  rescued  by  her  from  the  general  shipwreck;  she  set  them,  like 
jewels  that  sparkle  when  unbosomed  from  the  earth,  in  the  diadem 
of  Christian  philosophy  and  theology;  made  them  reflect  the  glory  of 
religion,  and  shine  with  a  lustre  which  "  paled  the  ineffectual  fire  "  of 
paganism's  most  golden  period.  Hers  was  the  hand  that  drew  forth, 
from  the  Hterary  lumber-room  of  dust-crowned  ages,  the  orations  of 
Cicero,  the  comedies  of  Plautus,  the  histories  of  Herodotus  and  Xeno- 
phon,  and  the  works  of  Lucretius,  Quinctillian,  and  Tertullian.  She 
founded  libraries  all  over  Europe,  and  her  monks  and  anchorites  dis- 
solved their  days  in  the  pleasure  of  study  and  reading,  and,  like  the 
temple  of  Apollo,  their  cells  and  sylvan  grottoes  became  the  haunt  of- 
the  Muses  and  the  sanctuary  of  literary  splendor.  "  The  medicine 
of  the  mind,"  as  books  w^ere  esteemed,  she  administered  to  every 
class,  and  by  skillful  industry  and  research  she  amassed  the  choicest 
productions  of  every  clime.  Nicholas  V.  laid  the  foundations  of  the 
incomparable  library  of  the  Vatican,  and  Sixtas  IV.  was  no  less 
celebrated  for  his  protection  of  the  arts  and  sciences  and  his  munifi- 
cent patronage  of  education.  It  was  the  patient  hand  of  the  monk 
and  the  taste  of  distinguished  Pontiffs,  and  the  culture  of  the  biil- 
liant  galaxy  who  always  clustered  around  the  Pontifical  chair,  as 


103 

planets  around  the  sun,  that  conspired  to  keep  alive  the  flame  of 
learning  when  its  pursuit  was  arduous,  when  manuscripts  were  im- 
portant articles  of  commerce,  and  when  the  restoration  of  letters  was 
environed  with  difficulties  and  the  very  ability  to  read  no  common 
acquirement.  Gregory  the  Great,  on  the  testimony  of  the  Protestant 
historian  Voigt,  enforced  on  bishops  the  important  duty  of  protect- 
ing letters,  fostering  arts  and  founding  schools,  and  long  before  the 
Reformation  and  the  invention  of  typography,  the  Catholic  clergy 
were  the  chief,  if  not  the  sole,  guardians  of  the  wants  of  public  in- 
struction. From  the  days  of  Charlemagne  to  those  of  Charles  the 
Fifth,  the  Church  was  the  arbiter  of  hterary  taste,  the  sponsor  of  edu- 
cation, the  patron  of  science,  art,  and  philosophy.  She  is  the  historic 
mother  of  all  the  great  universities,  from  Bologna,  Salamanca,  Paris, 
Louvain  to  Cambridge  and  Oxford — Oxford  with  its  twenty  thousand 
scholars  who  formed  a  fighting  army  in  the  Middle  Ages.  "  Catholic 
Italy  supplied,"  as  Hallam  remarks,  "  the  fire  at  which  other  nations 
lighted  their  torches."  The  courts  of  Italy  were  superior  in  literary 
and  artistic  attainments  to  those  of  London,  Stockholm,  or  Copen- 
hagen. Italy  was  the  fountain-head  of  science  for  centuries.  Her 
renown  among  the  nations  had  culminated  before  the  Augsburg 
Confession  was  dreamed  of  in  the  hterary  magnificence  of  the  golden 
age  of  Leo  X.,  whose  impartial  biographer  declares  that  even 
"  among  the  predecessors  of  Leo,  the  philosopher  may  contemplate 
with  approbation  the  eloquence  and  courage  of  Leo  I.;  the  benefi- 
cence, candor,  and  pastoral  attention  of  Gregory  the  I. ;  the  various 
acquirements  of  Sylvester  EC.;  the  industry,  acuteness,  and  learning 
of  Innocent  the  IV.  and  of  Pius  11. ;  and  of  the  munificence  and  love 
of  Hterature  so  strikingly  displayed  in  the  character  of  Nicholas  V.'^ 
Monks  of  the  Catholic  Church  were  the  fathers  of  English  literature, 
and  their  sacred  songs  were  chanted  by  the  choristers  of  the  monas- 
tery long  before  a  Chaucer  told  his  tales,  or  a  ShakesjDeare  "  held  the 
mirror  up  to  nature." 

This  is  the  Church  which  contributed,  nay,  made,  the  progress  4)f 
civilization  by  the  men  of  renown  whom  she  gave  to  the  world.  In 
the  march  of  events  we  are  prone  to  ascribe  too  large  a  share  to  in- 
dividuals as  to  the  importance  of  their  parts  in  the  drama  of  history; 
but  while  recognizing  the  action  of  that  higher  and  invisible  power 
which  rules  all  things,  we  are  not  to  become  oblivious  to  the  fact  that 


104 

God  works  through  human  agencies,  and  men  are  but  instruments  to 
accomplish  His  sovereign  will.  The  man  of  destiny  is  no  historical 
fiction,  but  a  philosophical  reality.  This  is  the  Church,  then,  which, 
in  the  designs  of  God,  raised  up  for  the  admiration  and  instruction 
of  men  such  geniuses  as  Scotus,  Albertus  Magnus,  Thomas  Aquinas, 
Koger  Bacon,  St.  Bernard,  St.  Ignatius,  St.  Augustine ;  such  orators 
as  Chrysostom,  Bossuet,  Massillon,  Lacordaire ;  such  writers  as  St. 
Jerome,  a  Kempis,  Fenelon,  Lingard,  a  Lapide,  Rhorbacker,  Manning, 
Hergenrother,  Wiseman,  and  Newman;  such  johilosophers  as  Male- 
branche,  Balmez,  Von  Schlegel,  Gioberti,  and  Des  Cartes;  such  poets 
as  Tasso,  Dante,  Ariosto,  Petrarch,  Racine,  Corneille,  Pope,  Southey, 
and  Moore;  such  astronomers  as  Secchi;  such  linguists  as  Mezzo- 
fante;  and  such  rulers  as  Charlemagne,  St.  Louis,  Alfred  and  Edward 
of  England,  King  Stephen  of  Hungary,  and  Bodolph  of  Hapsburg. 

It  is  the  testimony  of  Edmund  Burke  that  France  produced  more 
remarkable  men  than  all  the  Protestant  universities  of  Europe  ;  of 
Gibbon  that  one  Benedictine  monastery  published  more  scientific 
works  than  all  the  educational  establishments  of  post-Reformation 
days  ;  and  of  Hutchinson,  in  the  house  of  Parliament,  that  Catholicism 
was  at  one  time  the  religion  of  the  most  numerous,  the  religion  of  the 
most  enlightened  nations  in  Europe,  and  the  religion  of  the  most 
famous  characters  who  have  ever  honored  the  name  of  man.  Col. 
Mitchell,  in  his  life  of  Wallenstein,  declares  that  "  religion  and  civiliza- 
tion can  never  repay  the  debt  they  owe  to  the  Pontiffs  and  to  the 
Chui'ch  of  Rome,  who,  for  so  long  a  period,  made  the  most  noble 
efforts  to  advance  mankind  upon  the  path  of  progress."  To  that 
Church  modern  Europe  is  indebted  for  its  knowledge,  its  civilization, 
its  laws,  and  its  acquaintance  with  the  fine  arts  of  music,  painting, 
sculpture,  and  architecture. 

If  in  any  department  of  intellect  the  Romans  evinced  the  stfength 
of  their  acumen,  it  was  in  the  matter  of  the  perfection  of  their  laws, 
which  to  this  day  form  a  comprehensive  system  of  practical  equity 
ajid  universal  jurisprudence,  both  for  States  and  individuals.  Nearly 
all  cases  coming  under  the  conventional  or  customary  law  of  nations, 
will  find  some  precedent  in  the  jus  gentium  of  the  Romans,  and 
nearly  every  case  affecting  individuals  has  its  exemplar  in  the 
Roman  civil  law.  But  when  the  great  fabric  which  valor  and  policy 
had  founded  upon  the  seven  hills  of  Rome,  through  general  political 


105 

corruption  and  the  decline  of  knowledge,  and  virtue  began  to 
crumble,  all  respect  for  the  supremacy  of  the  law  commenced  to 
fade  likewise,  and  when  the  barbarous  hordes  of  the  North  had  by 
their  martial  energy  and  irresistible  force  imposed  their  yoke  upon 
the  ancient  possessors  of  the  Empire,  they  would  also  have  engrafted 
the  wild  and  lawless  individualism  upon  the  conquered,  but  for  the 
moulding,  restraining,  and  civilizing  hand  of  the  Church.  In  some 
respects  the  Roman  law,  at  least  the  jus  gentium,  was  contracted  and 
illiberal  in  the  character  of  its  provisions,  owing  to  the  influence  of 
the  pagan  mythology  ;  but  the  doctrines  of  Catholicity,  universal  in 
their  application  and  benign  in  their  intent,  gave  a  broader  exten- 
sion and  a  milder  character  to  the  old  Roman  jurisprudence.  Most 
of  the  modem  international  law,  sa»e  such  as  wholly  new  exigencies 
created,  has  been  deduced  from  the  canon  law  of  the  Church  and 
the  Roman  civil  law.  The  Church  helped  to  revive  the  study  of  the 
Roman  law,  and  under  Gregory  IX.  the  canon  law  was  reduced  to  a 
code  which  the  Church  employed  in  public  and  private  controversies. 
When  the  Church,  which  had  constituted  a  sort  of  bridge  spanning 
the  chaotic  gulf  which  separated  declining  antiquity  from  modern 
civilization,  had  fully  formed  and  consolidated  the  Christian  govern- 
ment of  the  nations,  and  all  recognized  one  sovereign,  spiritual 
head,  the  authority  of  the  Roman  Pontiff  was  frequently  invoked  to 
arbitrate  difficulties  between  different  nations.  The  Pope  thus  be- 
came the  great  pacificator  of  Europe  at  a  time,  a  crucial  period  of 
history,  when  without  such  supreme  intervention,  all  the  aii,  science, 
learning,  law,  and  government  which  had  been  built  up  upon  the 
ruins  of  the  ancient  world,  would  have  disappeared  in  the  social 
convulsions  and  political  revolutions  of  the  new  order,  whose 
orgasm  would  be  unchecked  by  any  paramount  authority.  It  was 
thus  that  European  nations  escaped  in  many  instances  the  abso- 
lutism of  kings  and  emperors,  and  often  were  the  people  compelled 
to  take  refuge  under  the  crook  of  the  Chiurch,  for  it  is  not  easy  to 
conceive,  a^  Burke  has  justly  observed,  a  government  as  mild  as 
those  of  the  Church  sovereignties.  International  polity  for  many 
centuries  recognized  the  Papal  supremacy,  at  least  in  its  pacificatory 
office,  tiU  pagan  policy  was  once  more  revived  when  Henry  VIII. 
cast  off  the  authority  of  the  Church,  and  united  the  civil  and  the 
spiritual  functions  in  his  own  royal  person. 


106 

Happily  for  England,  as  nearly  all  commentators  on  her  constitu- 
tion show,  the  political  principles  of  Catholic  ages  she  preserved  in 
her  government  and  public  institutions.  Her  sturdy  yeomanry 
objected  to  the  royal  Csesarism  which  overspread  Europe  after  the 
renaissance  had  attempted  to  resurrect  pagan  forms  and  pagan 
customs,  with  pagan  literature,  and  though  unable  to  undo  the 
unholy  usurpation  of  the  king,  they  sought  to  temper  his  authority 
and  resist  his  despotism  by  parliaments  and  commons.  They  held 
tenaciously  to  the  principles  of  Magna  Charta,  which  Stephen  Lang 
ton.  Catholic  Archbishop,  had  extorted  from  a  reluctant  tyrant ;  and 
the  old  laws  and  traditions  ;  the  ancient  legislation,  dating  back  to 
the  days  of  Alfred ;  representative  and  constitutional  government, 
coming  down  from  Catholic  tim6<6 — all  were  held  fast  by  the  people 
as  a  priceless  heirloom  derived  from  a  religion  which  they  no  longer 
acknowledged  or  confessed.  Similarly,  the  Church  was  mainly  re- 
sponsible for  whatever  of  free  government  existed  in  the  continental 
nations  after  the  great  revolution  of  the  sixteenth  century.  Spanish 
liberty,  tiU  overthrown  by  the  absolutism  of  Philip  II  ;  free  insti- 
tutions in  the  Catholic  cantons  of  Switzerland  ;  civil  liberty  in  West- 
phalia and  the  Rhenish  countries  and  the  enlightened  constitution 
of  St.  Stephen  of  Hungary,  were  all  imbued  with  the  spirit  and 
formed  on  the  models  suggested  by  the  teachings  of  Catholic  phi- 
losophers and  publicists,  guided  by  the  doctrines  of  that  Church 
which  is  the  mother  of  civil  liberty,  because  inspired  by  the  Spirit 
of  divine  truth.  "You  shall  know  the  truth,  and  the  truth  shall 
make  you  free." 

Nor  was  the  Church  less  concerned  with  the  preservation  and  de- 
velopment of  the  fine  arts — those  refinements  of  civilization  which 
satisfy  the  spiritual  cravings  of  man  s  nature,  elevate  the  mind,  and 
soothe  the  heart.  Her  system  of  divine  worship  was  admirably  cal- 
culated to  unfold  the  beauty  and  the  power  of  these  agencies  in 
captivating  the  heart  and  intellect. 

Music  caught  new  and  diviner  inspiration  from  her  heavenly  fire. 
Her  temples  resounded  night  and  day  with  the  strains  of  sacred 
song,  and  her  daily  invocation  to  her  children  was  to  praise  the  Lord 
with  the  psaltery  and  harp,  as  Israel  did  of  old.  Her  musical  com- 
positions have  never  been  equalled,  and  never  will  be  surpassed. 
The  majestic  organ,  with  its  mighty  volume,  sounding  the  voice  of 


107 

God,  was  first  heard  in  a  Benedictine  monastery.  The  solemn, 
plaintive  chant  which  moves  the  soul  to  tears,  was  arranged  by  Pope 
Gregory,  and  those  Ughter,  but  still  solemn  strains,  ^\^hich  ai*e  so 
admirably  adapted  to  express  pathos  and  feeling,  are  named  after  a 
Cecilia. 

At  the  solemn  midnight  Mass  the  deep-toned  organ  sounded 
through  the  monastery  aisles,  accompanied  by  the  chant  of  the 
monks,  as  in  meek  procession  they  passed  from  sanctuary  to  vesti- 
bule and  back  again  to  affar.  Thus  on  the  wings  of  music,  the  most 
spiritual  and  spiritualizing  of  the  arts,  the  Church  sought  to  raise 
the  heart  to  God. 

Painting  was,  like  music,  her  own  creation,  for  but  little  survived 
from  pagan  times  to  stand  as  models  to  the  modern  artist.  But  like 
Prometheus,  the  Chiistian  painter  caught  his  fire  from  heaven.  Soli- 
tude is  the  nurse  of  genius;  and  in  the  stillness  of  his  monastery 
cell,  the  pensive  monk  called  forth  the  wondrous  creations  of  the 
mind,  and  with  form  and  color  clad  them  and  made  them  breathe 
and  live.  One  order  alone,  the  Dominican,  produced  names  that  are 
immortal.  The  great  paintings  of  the  past  which  have  won  the  en- 
during praise  of  generations,  are  monuments  to  the  inspiring  genius 
of  Catholicity.  How  sublime  in  composition  and  expression  ;  in 
coloring,  how  unspeakably  rich  and  natui-al  are  the  works  of  the  im- 
mortal CathoUc  masters  !  What  genius  for  relief  and  perspective  ; 
what  marvellous  blending  and  hai-monizing  of  tints  ;  what  glorious 
translation  of  nature  to  the  realm  of  art  exhibited  in  their  frescoes 
and  paintings !  What  a  scene  of  confused  action,  violent  motion, 
fearful  expression  in  Tintoretti's  "  Massacre  of  the  Innocents,"  in 
Michael  Angelo's  "Last  Judgment."  Scenes,  indeed,  executed  with 
superhuman  power,  and  almost  too  tragic  for  human  contemplation. 

Look  on  the  "  Magdalen  "  of  Titian — and  look  unmoved,  if  you  can. 
It  is  a  representation,  not  so  much  of  body  as  of  soul.  Standing  in 
her  grot,  with  one  hand  laid  upon  her  breast,  her  eyes  raised  to 
heaven  in  an  agony  of  penitence,  what  tearful  anguish  in  the  plead- 
ing countenance,  lighted  with  the  slight  smile  which  seems  to  betoken 
the  approach  of  comfort  and  of  hope  ;  and  the  "  Crucifixion,"  by  the 
same  hand,  how  it  moves  the  inmost  soul  and  opens  aU  of  pity's  un- 
locked fount.  The  mother,  fainting  and  falling  when  the  "  sword 
of  sorrow  "  had  at  length  pierced  through  her  soul,  and  John  and 


103 

Magdalen  gazing  on  their  suffering  Master  with  devoted  love  and 
passionate  grief. 

Then,  in  his  admirable  "  Annunciation  "  and  still  more  beautiful 
"  Assumption,"  what  artistic  grouping  and  arrangement,  what  com- 
posed sublimity  of  expression,  conjoined  with  reverential  awe  and 
tenderness.  In  the  latter  masterpiece  is  the  Virgin,  standing  upon 
a  cloud,  robed  with  celestial  light  and  borne  upward  with  hosts  of 
attending  angels,  while  beneath  are  lingering  the  adoring  train  of 
the  Apostles.  With  arms  extended  and  glowing,  upraised  counten- 
ance, the  Virgin  Mother  ascends,  radiant  and  glorious,  io  the  throne 
beyond  the  stars. 

And  the  incomparable  creations  of  Correggio,  Paul  Veronese, 
Leonardi  da  Vinci,  poet,  mathematician,  painter  ;  Guido  Reni, 
Giulio  Bomano,  Raefaelli,  Fra  Bartolomaeo,  Murillo,  Velasquez, 
Rubens,  and  many  others,  are  not  these  chefs-d'oeuvre  the  result  of 
that  heavenly  flame  of  piety  and  genius  lighted  upon  the  altar  of 
Catholic  inspiration.  Catholic  thought,  and  Catholic  feeling? 
Assuredly  it  was  not  from  Pagan  sources  they  drew  their  lofty  and 
godlike  ideals  of  art. 

The  divine  seed  of  knowledge,  from  which  spiritual  life  grows, 
was  dead  under  Paganism's  baneful  reign.  Art  was  then  the  hand- 
maid of  the  baser  passions.  The  flame  of  worship,  which  ascended 
to  the  blue  heavens  above,  arose  from  altars  dedicated  to  Bacchus, 
to  Venus  and  Apollo.  Down  in  the  depths  of  the  tombs,  in  the 
bowels  of  the  earth,  the  children  of  the  cross  sang  in  happy  unison 
a  new  song  to  the  Creator,  and  sent  forth  with  unwearied  repetition 
the  salutation  to  the  Virgin  Mary.  Then  Christian  aii  began  to  live. 
It  is  natural  to  man  to  express  his  feelings,  not  only  by  the  voice, 
but  by  the  hand  as  weU.  On  the  rock  walls  of  the  catacombs  were 
carved  in  rude  outline  figures  expressive  of  the  feelings  of  the 
Christian  heart.  A  heart,  symbolizing  love  ;  an  anchor,  implying 
steadfastness  and  hope  ;  a  peacock,  signifying  omniscience  and  im- 
mortality ;  a  dove,  the  symbol  of  the  Holy  Spirit ;  a  palm  with  the 
chalics,  meaning  victory  over  death  and  destruction — such  were  the 
rude  beginnings  of  Christian  art  in  the  halls  of  the  dead,  where  seven 
millions  slept  in  Christ,  of  whom  two  hundred  thousand  won  the 
martyr's  crown. 

For  centuries,  with  varying  fortunes.  Catholic  art  forged  ahead, 


109 

till  at  length  the  mighty  genius  of  Angelo  and  the  exquisite  felicity 
of  Raphael  produced  those  prodigies  of  the  pencil  which  are  among 
the  most  stupendous  creations  of  art  and  genius  united  that  history 
has  recorded,  or  the  world  can  boast.  Since  the  pen  of  inspiration 
wrote  the  description  of  the  bii-th  of  light,  nothing  ever  conve^^ed  to 
the  mind  of  man  such  an  adequate  idea  of  the  process  of  creation 
and  transfused  such  awful  sublimity  into  the  living  images  which 
shall  appear  before  the  affrighted  eyes  of  the  sinner  on  the  final 
Judgment  Day,  as  the  hand  of  Raphael  in  the  one  case  and  that  of 
Angelo  in  the  other.  In  the  first  the  Eternal  Father  moves  through 
chaos,  laden,  as  it  is,  with  dense,  black  clouds,  broken  by  occasional 
flashes  of  lurid  light.  His  head  is  turned  aside.  His  arms  are  ex- 
tended. His  limbs  in  violent  motion,  as  He  sepai-ates  light  from 
darkness,  reduces  chaos  into  order.  His  whole  form  instinct  with  the 
stupendous  effort  of  creation.  Again,  He  moves  with  tranquil 
majesty  through  a  transparent  atmosphere  above  the  new-formed 
globe,  separating  with  His  finger  the  diy  land  from  the  sea.  Now, 
He  rises  above  the  earth,  and  wielding  the  sun  in  one  hand  and  the 
moon  in  the  other.  He  fixes  them  in  the  firmament  of  heaven,  as  far 
apart  as  day  is  from  night.  Finally,  He  walks  the  earth,  with  arms 
outstretched  in  benediction,  and  obediently-  to  the  tread  of  His  foot- 
steps, the  multitudinous  animal  creation  springs  into  existence. 
Conception  can  mount  no  higher.  Execution  equals  the  lofty  theme 
and  befits  the  Almighty  Actor. 

And  the  terrible  grandeur  of  the  "  Last  Judgment."  In  the  centre 
of  a  semicircle  formed  of  patriarchs,  prophets,  and  apostles,  spec- 
tators of  the  awful  scene,  stands  the  Judge  of  heaven  and  earth.  In 
form,  colossal;  in  limbs,  titanic;  in  expression  and  attitude  terribly 
subUme;  with  hands  uplifted  in  repulsion,  the  energy  of  avenging 
justice  upon  His  frowning  brow;  the  inclination  of  forwai'd  motion 
given  to  His  body  to  depict  the  intensity  of  His  action;  His  ]ips 
seem  to  utter  the  frightful  malediction:  Depart  from  Me,  ye  cursed, 
into  everlasting  fire.  The  doomed  reprobate  plunge  downward  in 
a  common  torrent,  and  the  angels  hurl  thunderbolts  upon  them. 
With  cowering  head,  shrinking  muscles,  swollen  eyes,  and  crouching 
forms,  the  unhappy  victims  of  divine  vengeance  betray  that  terror 
and  dismay  which  will  overtake  them  when  in  the  evil  day  they  shall 
call  upon  the  rocks  and  the  mountains  to  fall  upon  them  and  hide 


110 

them  from  the  wrath  of  the  Omnipotent.  The  other  features  of  this 
deathless  fresco  we  need  not  dwell  uj)on,  nor  do  we  possess  the 
power  to  describe  the  overmastering  sublimity  of  the  i)icture  as  a 
whole;  a  work  which  has  made  imperishable  the  fame  of  this  gifted 
son  of  Catholic  genius.  If,  when  observed  only  through  the  medium 
of  steel  engravings,  these  works  are  capable  of  producing  the  most 
profound  emotions  of  which  the  heart  is  susceptible,  what  must  be 
the  eif ect  of  the  originals  upon  the  favored  beholder  ? 

The  Catholic  Church  has  also  been  the  zealous  promoter  of  archi- 
tecture She  built  the  great  basilicas,  cathedrals,  and  churches  of 
the  world.  When  they  sought  to  construct  temples  of  worship 
worthy  of  the  Almighty  in  a  city  upon  the  ridges  of  the  Apennines 
overlooking  the  sea,  Romanesque  architecture  began  to  flourish 
under  Theodoric.  Her  abbeys,  convents,  and  colleges  were  remark- 
able for  beauty  of  proportion,  splendor  of  external  finish,  marvellous 
richness  of  interior  decoration.  Thus  her  monasteries  became 
centres  of  the  highest  culture,  and  villages  grew  into  walled  towns. 
The  palace  of  Charlemagne,  now  but  little  more  than  a  splendid 
memory,  and  the  Cathedral  of  Aix-la-Chapelle,  once  the  great  mon- 
arch's chapel,  were  the  offspring  of  Catholic  inspiration,  and  the 
Cathedral  at  Hildesheim  was  planned  by  Bishop  Bern  ward  in  the 
eleventh  century.  Gothic  architecture  was  not  possible  until  the 
Northern  sons  of  the  forest  had  felt  the  religious  influence  and  ob- 
served the  models  of  the  Church  in  Italy.  The  cathedrals  of  May- 
ence,  Strasburg,  Worms,  Spires,  Milan,  Florence,  York,  and  West- 
minster were  inspired  by  Catholic  genius  and  built  by  Catholic 
hands.  The  graceful,  pointed  Gothic  arch,  supported  by  the  fluted 
column,  crowned  with  capitals  exquisitely  carved,  sometimes  made 
wholly  of  marble,  and  sometimes  encrusted  with  that  material  and 
inlaid  with  foliage  and  branchwork,  upon  which  the  sunlight  played 
with  magical  effect  and  indescribable  charm,  originated  in  the  de- 
vout mind  of  the  Catholic  architect,  who  sought  to  transfer  to  the 
purposes  of  religion  something  of  the  form  and  beauty  of  nature. 
Fantastic  and  irregular  this  Gothic  architecture  arose  at  first,  but 
when,  polished  and  refined  by  the  mellowing  spirit  of  Christian- 
ity, it  came  forth  in  its  full-orbed  splendor,  how  inspiring,  how  im- 
posing and  magnificent. 

The  wealth  of  interior  ornament  in  the  Catholic  churches  of  the 


Ill 

Middle  Ages  was  of  surpassing  splendor  and  richness.  The  costly 
candelabra;  the  bejeweled  vestments,  radiant  as  the  rainbow;  the 
glittering  mosaics  of  painstaking  workmanship  ;  the  baptismal  font 
with  its  curious  carvings  and  s^'mbolic  devices;  its  representations 
of  the  four  rivers  of  Paradise  and  the  heavenly  Jerusalem  ;  the 
-chests  for  precious  relics,  adorned  with  paintings  and  ornamented 
with  gold;  the  ivory  shrines  and  cricifixes;  the  engraved  and  illum- 
inated gospels,  psalters,  and  missals  filled  with  miniatures  colored 
and  gilded  with  elaborate  elegance  and  finish,  which  all  together 
demonstrate  the  high  degree  of  perfection  which  these  minor  ai-ts 
had  attained  long  anterior  to  the  time  that  English  Dissenters  held 
in  horror  stained-glass  and  organs,  that  John  Knox,  as  Carlyle  says, 
smashed  crucifixes  in  France,  and  that  Luther  hurled  his  inkstand  at 
ihe  genius  of  evil. 

Colonization  has  done  more  for  the  progress  and  civilization  of  the 
world  than,  perhaps,  any  single  civilizing  agency.  The  Catholic 
nations  have  been  the  great  colonizers  of  the  world.  Spain,  Portu- 
gal, and  France  sent  t'leir  colonists  to  the  farthest  parts  of  the 
earth.  The  spirit  of  enterprise  was  always  blended  with  the  spirit 
of  faith,  and  a  Xavier  did  as  much  for  China  and  Japan  in  the 
sixteenth  century  as  a  Stanley  did  for  Africa  in  the  nineteenth. 
The  earhest  encroachments  upon  the  Western  wilderness  were  made 
"by  Catholic  missionaries,  who  tracked  our  rivers  and  scaled  our 
mountains  when  travelling  was  daring  and  difficult  compared  with 
the  safe  and  economical  transportation  wrought  by  the  progress  of 
improvement.  The  names  of  Marquette,  Lasalle,  Champlain,  Jaques 
Cartier,  De  Smet,  Da  Leon,  and  a  hundred  more,  are  indelibly 
written  on  the  broad  surface  of  the  Western  continent.  The  sound 
of  axes  followed  the  voice  of  the  missionary,  and  the  pioneers  of 
material  improvement  traced  their  path  by  the  footsteps  of  the 
heralds  of  the  Gospel.  Were  some  pen  dippdd  in  the  hues  of  truth 
to  paint  the  real  adventures  of  the  pioneers  of  civilization,  when 
our  rivers  were  first  navigated  by  little  arks  as  incompetent  to  ascend 
the  turbulent  stream  as  to  sail  the  Atlantic,  we  should  do  honor  to 
the  heroic  courage  and  devotion  of  men  who  cast  into  our  soil  the 
seminal  principles  of  reHgion  and  progress. 

To  what  dangers  were  they  not  exposed !  To  what  inclemencies 
from  the  season,  and  to  what  perils  from  the  savage  and  inhospitable 


112 

surroundings !  Compelled  not  infrequently  to  sleep  without  shelter  ; 
to  wade  through  morasses  or  through  snows  ;  to  climb  lofty  cliffs 
and  descend  through  dismal  gorges  ;  to  carry  life  in  their  hands  — 
nay,  hold  it  up  as  a  target  —  daily,  hourly  expecting  captivity,  torture, 
and  lingering  death,  they  esteemed  all  as  dross  provided  they  might 
gain  souls  to  God  and  seal  the  continent  for  Christ,  even  at  the  cost 
of  the  effusion  of  their  blood.  They  were  the  servants  of  posterity 
and  the  benefactors  of  succeeding  generations.  They  sowed  in  tears 
and  blood,  and  we  reap  their  sheaves  rejoicing.  They  came  to  gladden 
the  new  world  with  the  light  of  the  Gospel,  even  while  they  sunk 
under  the  weight  of  their  unmerited  woe.  Through  scenes  of  gloom 
and  misery,  they  opened  here  an  asylum  for  liberty  of  conscience  at 
the  same  time  that  they  cut  through  the  wilderness  a  path  for  sub- 
sequent progress.  In  the  history  of  mankind  how  many  pages  are 
devoted  to  extol  the  exploits  of  those  who  devastated  fields,  laid  waste 
countries,  sacked  cities,  and  overthrew  empires.  The  world  rings 
with  the  fame  of  an  Alexander,  a  Hannibal,  a  Caesar.  But  instructed 
by  the  experience  of  the  past,  which  teaches  us  the  true  value  of  vic- 
tories wrought  in  blood,  all  genuine  lovers  of  the  race  will  hold  in 
honor  and  precious  remembrance  the  fame  of  men  who,  as  they  built 
churches  and  planted  colonies,  laid  broad  and  deep  the  foundations 
of  our  enduring  greatness  and  national  prosperity. 

Among  them  all  was  one  band  of  men  whose  names  history  will 
enroll  in  her  brightest  pages  and  entwine  with  the  laurels  of  lenown. 
They  were  the  intrepid  sons  of  St.  Ignatius.  Men  of  culture  and 
refinement,  famed  for  science  and  sanctity  ;  the  best  educators  in  the 
world,  desirous  of  no  distinction  save  that  of  influence  over  the 
souls  of  men,  kindled  with  an  enthusiasm  that  defied  all  danger 
and  endured  every  toil,  they  passed  from  the  cities  of  Continental 
Europe  to  Japan,  China,  Abyssinia,  and  to  Patagonia,  where  they 
founded  the  model  republic  of  the  world.  To  every  corner  of  our 
country  they  penetrated  with  the  same  intrepidity  and  undaunted 
devotion.  Along  the  course  of  the  Arkansas,  the  muddy  Missouri, 
and  the  mighty  Mississippi ;  in  the  smiling  valleys  of  the  Genesee 
and  the  Mohawk  ;  upon  the  granite  hills  of  New  Hampshire  and  in 
the  pine  forests  of  Maine  ;  through  the  labyrinthine  windings  of  the 
Colorado,  the  Green  River  and  the  Bed,  and  to  the  far-off  golden 
slope  of  the  Pacific,  from  Vancouver  to  San  Lucas,  and  from  San 


113 

liucas  to  the  Gulf,  they  spread  the  light  of  Christianity,  upheld  the 
emblem  of  man's  salvation,  and  carried  the  banners  of  the  cross  in 
peaceful  but  glorious  triumph  from  pole  to  pole.  Landing  upon  our 
shores  they  boldly  plunged  into  the  unknown  and  unexplored  interior 
to  summon  the  savage  native  to  forsake  his  idolatry  and  bow  down 
in  meek  submission  to  the  cross  ;  and,  erecting  rude  altars  in  the 
deep  forest  glade,  the  Holy  Mass  was  said,  and  the  first  tinkle  of  the 
Mass-bell,  floating  like  a  wave  of  heavenly  melody  upon  the  morning 
air,  announced  the  consecration  of  our  country  to  the  Lord  and  King 
of  mankind.  And  whether  they  walked  under  smiling  skies  or  faced 
the  frowning  storm  ;  whether  in  bland  and  balmy  valleys  or  on 
cloud-capped  and  wind-swept  mountains,  they  toiled  their  weary 
round,  they  had  but  one  aim,  one  hope,  one  cause  for  which  to  do 
and  dare  and  die  —  to  exalt  the  name  of  Chiist  and  bring  to  all  flesh 
the  light  of  God's  salvation. 

They  are  gone  from  the  land  of  the  living,  but  their  memory  is 
immortal,  for  the  good  can  never  die.  Side  by  side  in  the  rugged 
edge  of  battle  they  fell,  but  their  fame  shall  endure.  The  chains 
that  rankled  on  the  feet  of  God's  forsaken  children  they  struck 
loose,  and  the  rock-ribbed  fastnesses  of  error  they  broke  down. 
They  disarmed  prejudice,  they  silenced  opposition,  and  the  sheen  of 
their  swords  will  flash  light  uj)on  this  continent  while  a  Christian 
treads  its  soil.  Like  Moses  in  the  arid  desert,  they  smote  the  rocky 
hearts  of  men,  and  the  waters  of  salvation  gushed  freely  forth  ;  like 
the  angel  at  the  pool  of  Bethsaida,  they  stin-ed  all  the  fountains  of 
human  feeling  and  gave  heahng  to  the  sin-sick  multitude.  Now 
they  rest  from  their  labors,  for  their  works  have  followed  them. 
They  fought  the  good  fight ;  they  kept  the  faith  ;  they  have  gone  to 
their  reward  and  won  the  incorruptible  crown  of  the  Christian 
conqueror.  Inebriated  by  the  fullness  of  God's  house  they  hunger 
not,  neither  do  they  thirst  any  more  ;  because  the  Lamb  shall  rule 
and  shall  lead  them  unto  fountains  of  living  waters,  and  God  shall 
wipe  away  all  tears  from  their  eyes.  The  road  that  leads  to  the 
Infinite's  abode  is  steep  ;  but  it  is  starry,  too.  They  climbed  the 
steeps  bravely,  and  now  the  stars  flash  upon  their  brows.  The 
white  light  of  heaven,  shooting  from  the  unclouded  splendor  of  the 
Lamb,  shines  upon  them.  They  stand  not  in  need  of  the  sun  for  a 
light  by  day,  nor  of  the  moon  for  a  light  by  night,  for  the  glory  of 
8 


114 

God's  countenance  is  unto  them  a  light  that  sparkles  with  fadeless 
splendor  evermore. 

Nor  was  the  Church  at  any  period  of  her  history  insensible  to  the 
advantages  of  material  prosperity.  She  exalted  the  spiritual  above 
the  temporal,  as  was  but  just,  but  she  fostered  industry  and  enter- 
prise, always  upheld  the  dignity  of  toil,  and  taught  that  labor  should 
not  be  robbed  of  its  reward.  The  arts  and  sciences  she  encouraged; 
inventive  genius  she  esteemed;  and  commerce,  the  handmaid  of 
civilization,  she  did  more  to  promote  by  her  missionary  efforts  than 
all  the  States  and  Governments  of  Europe.  The  words  of  Cardinal 
Pecci,  now  the  illustrious  reigning  Pontiff,  explains  her  attitude 
towards  that  material  progress  which  her  calumniators  have  plausibly 
endeavored  to  show  as  incompatible  with  her  rule  and  domination. 
The  effete  and  fallacious  argument  which  vaunts  the  material  superi- 
ority of  Protestant  nations  it  is  unnecessary  to  consider,  for  no  man 
can  show  anything  in  Catholic  truth  or  Catholic  teaching  inconsistent 
with  the  highest  material  advancement.  On  the  contrary,  she  teaches 
in  the  words  of  Leo  XIII. : 

"  How  grand  and  full  of  majesty  doth  man  appear  when  he  arrests 
the  thunderbolt,  summons  the  electric  flash,  and  how  powerful 
when  he  takes  possession  of  the  force  of  steam !  Is  there  not  in 
man,  when  he  does  these  things,  some  spark  of  creative  power? 
The  Church  views  these  things  with  joy." 

Under  the  shield  and  protection  of  the  Church  the  manufacturing 
and  mercantile  interests  flourished  with  surprising  vigor,  in  the 
Repubhcs  of  Genoa,  Florence,  and  Venice,  and  in  most  of  the 
cities  and  towns  of  Southern  Europe,  when  the  northern  part  was 
oppressed  by  feudalism  and  distressed  by  idleness,  stagnation,  and 
poverty.  In  France  it  was  under  the  Catholic  St.  Louis,  and  in 
Spain  it  was  in  the  Catholic  city  of  Barcelona,  that  trades-unions,  or 
trade-  corporations,  as  they  were  called,  took  their  origin,  which,  so 
far  as  can  be  known,  does  not  antedate  the  thirteenth  century. 
These  unions  had  corporate  powers,  clearly  defined  and  established 
rights,  and  often  wielded  great  influence  in  the  State.  They  were 
blessed  and  encouraged  by  the  Church,  which  always  recognized  the 
just  claims  of  labor  and  the  respectability  of  the  artisan's  employ- 
ment. The  principle  of  legitimate  association  upon  which  they 
were  founded  the  Church  always  justified,  even  as  she  does  to-day 


115 

with  regard  to  the  Knights  of  Labor,  and  to  her  patronage  and 
assistance  they  have  often  been  indebted  for  their  emancipation 
from  grinding  task-masters,  who,  enriched  by  the  fruits  of  their 
toil,  only  mocked  their  dependence  and  derided  their  poverty.  The 
Church  knows  that  an  empty  stomach  is  a  poor  civilizer. 

The  progress  of  poverty  is  to-day,  as  it  was  in  the  Middle  Ages 
under  feudalism,  a  grave  problem.  As  to  the  existence  of  poverty, 
Henry  George  is  right.  If  we  adopt  the  Malthusian  doctrine,  that 
population  increases  in  geometrical  proportion,  while  the  means  of 
subsistence  advances  only  in  arithmetical  ratio,  the  moral  and 
physical  checks  indicated  by  the  author  of  the  theory,  will  be  of 
small  efficacy  in  the  salvation  of  society.  Every  war  would  be  a 
blessing  in  disguise,  and  in  point  of  fact  we  should  live  in  perpetual 
warfare.  The  only  moral  check  that  would  have  any  real  influence 
in  averting  an  issue  so  calamitous,  was  the  celibacy  of  the  clergy  ; 
the  prevention  of  ill-advised  and  improvident  marriages  by  the 
watchfulness  of  pastors  over  their  flocks,  and  the  diminution  of  ille- 
gitimate births  by  the  restraints  of  reason  and  conscience  upon  the 
empire  of  the  passions.  On  the  principle  inculcated  by  our  Lord 
Himself,  that  if  we  seek  first  the  kingdom  of  God  and  His  justice, 
all  the  rest  shall  be  added  unto  us,  the  Church  always  insisted  that  the 
moral  and  Christian  virtues,  chastity,  charity,  probity,  and  prudence, 
as  much  as  genius  and  science,  belonged  to  the  wealth  and  temporal 
prosperity  of  a  nation.  To  the  poor  plebeian  she  taught  resignation, 
self-denial,  frugality,  order,  and  economy  ;  the  rich  man  she  called 
upon  to  moderate  his  avidity,  to  stimulate  his  charity  and  give  alms 
of  his  bounty  to  the  needy.  Disinclination  to  toil  ;  immorality  and 
ignorance  ;  improvidence  and  intemperance  ;  the  pride  of  profes- 
sional employments,  for  which  but  few  were  qualified,  and  the  desire 
to  forsake  the  humbler  avocations  which  the  many  must  pursue  ;  the 
unrestricted  accumulation  and  concentration  of  commercial  capital  ; 
the  foundation  of  new  feudal  systems,  whose  barons  would  be  bank- 
ers and  whose  manufactories  often  multiply  the  poor  instead  of 
relieving  poverty  ;  agrarian  monopoly,  and  the  greed,  cupidity,  and 
injustice  of  the  lords  of  the  soil,  together  with  bad  legislation,  the 
imperfection  of  public  charitable  institutions,  and  the  neglect  of 
religion  in  education,  politics,  morals,  and  social  institutions,— these 
are  among  the  chief  causes  of  the  social  misery  of  mankind,  and  to 


116 

overcome,  or  at  least  to  neutralize  the  disastrous  effects  of  habits, 
tendencies,  dispositions,  and  conditions  which  are  a  prolific  spring  of 
poverty  and  suffering  in  every  land,  the  Church  devoted  her  vast 
influence,  her  mighty  energies,  and  her  constant  zeal.  Poverty, 
radical  and  extensive,  is  the  outcome  of  a  great  historical  fact,  the 
existence  of  slavery  in  all  countries  which  had  not  embraced  the 
teachings  and  spirit  of  Christianity.  Under  the  influence  of  the 
Church  a  change  was  wrought  in  favor  of  the  masses,  but  the  trans- 
formation was  necessarily  by  slow  and  successive  degrees.  Even  yet, 
though  the  formal  institution  is  abolished  in  Christian  lands,  the 
old  idea  that  men  were  but  chattels  is  often  evinced  in  the  harsh 
and  tyrannical  relations  which  subsist  between  employer  and  em- 
ployed. But  the  great  work  of  elevating  the  working  classes,  in  so 
far  as  it  has  been  wrought,  is  the  Church's  achievement  and  the 
Church's  glory.  Those  Christians  who  have  separated  from  the 
Church  of  Eome,  before  the  emancipation  of  labor  and  the  destruc- 
tion of  feudalism  in  the  West,  like  the  Greek  and  Eastern  Churches, 
have  done  nothing,  made  no  solitary  step  towards  the  liberation  of 
the  great  army  of  toilers.  Indeed,  that  emancipation  was  impossible 
without  the  progress  of  civil  liberty  as  a  factor  in  forming  the  public 
mind  ; — that  liberty  which  Alexander  III.  affirmed  to  be  the  birth- 
right of  all  men,  and  which  the  whole  discipline  of  the  Church  was 
designed  to  secure  and  perpetuate.  Everything  which  contributed 
to  the  pursuits  of  peace,  to  public  happiness  and  prosperity,  the 
Church  defended  and  protected.  Martin  V.  proclaimed  the  authority 
of  temporal  rulers  against  the  anarchical  and  seditious  ;  Urban  V. 
asserted  the  right  of  property,  the  justice  of  commerce  and  of  con- 
tracts, the  order  of  justice  in  compensation,  restitution  and  self- 
defense,  the  authority  of  judicial  oaths  and  of  public  power  ;  Leo  X. 
affirmed  the  right  and  justice  of  war  ;  Alexander  VII.  maintained 
the  legislative  power  of  civil  government;  and  Alexander  YIII., 
Innocent  X.,  Gregory  XITE.,  and  Urban  VIII.  defended  free  will  and 
asserted  the  existence  of  the  moral  law,  for  nations  and  individuals. 
But  material  success  is  not  the  sole  criterion  of  progress  and  civil- 
ization, for  such  success  the  heathens  had  abundantly. 

"  All  maDkind  are  students.     How  to  live 
And  how  to  die  forms  the  great  lesson  still." 


117 

The  enterprise  of  mankind  is  not  to  be  limited  to  the  acquisition 
of  wealth  and  the  building  of  monuments  of  temporal  grandeur. 
Higher  and  nobler  objects  rise  in  the  horizon.  True  progress  makes 
for  heaven  and  God.  Upon  the  great  tide  of  time  men  drift  along 
with  no  chart  or  compass  to  guide  their  course  save  that  which 
religion  and  virtue  can  bestow.  Before  the  soul  of  man  opens 
immeasurable  fields,  endless  as  time  and  wide  as  God's  creation, 
stretching  onward  thi'ough  the  untold  rounds  and  cycles  of  eternity. 
Each  day,  each  hour,  the  thousand  incidents  of  life  leave  their  deep- 
drawn  traces  on  the  soul  for  good  or  ill.  "  Unheeded  all  the  currents 
of  our  lives  are  bound  in  shallows  and  in  miseries."  Sick  of  vice, 
and  yet  an  enemy  to  virtue  ;  disgusted  with  pleasure,  and  yet  its 
constant  votary  ;  regretful  of  the  past,  yet  reckless  of  the  present 
and  hopeless  of  the  future  —  despair  usurps  the  place  of  enjoyment, 
and  the  heart  makes  itself  a  heaven  in  the  chase  of  folly  and  the 
pursuit  of  those  transitory  goods  which  yield  no  permanent  satisfac- 
tion, and  work,  as  in  the  case  of  those  empires  and  kingdoms  of  which 
history  records  the  mournful  story,  ruin  for  the  individual  and 
calamity  for  the  nation.  The  power  of  religion  alone  can  give  true 
progress  to  society.  Under  the  influence  of  religion  the  possibilities 
of  human  advancement  border  on  the*  illimitable. 

The  human  mind  has  ever  been  prone  to  fancy  that  the  world  is 
yet  to  be  the  theatre  of  great  events,  in  which  the  wonderful  perfec- 
tions of  God's  providence  directing  the  deeds  of  men  will  be 
displayed  as  it  has  never  yet  been  permitted  man  to  behold  them. 
Tradition  has  dehghted  to  discourse  and  poetry  to  sing  of  a  golden 
age  in  the  beginning  of  the  world's  history,  and  both  have  looked 
forward  to  the  time  when  all  things  shall  be  restored  to  their  primal 
unity  and  perfection.  Science  and  philosophy  of  to-day  have  with 
their  materializing  tendencies  sought  to  pour  contempt  upon  these 
high  expectations,  which,  however  remotely  realizable,  are,  we  think> 
among  the  best  aspirations  of  the  human  heart.  Though  perfection, 
be  not  attainable,  to  aspire  to  it  is  a  perfection  itself.  Who  shall 
place  limits  to  the  future  ?  Who  shall  say  what  secrets  nature  may 
yet  unfold  ?  Who  shall  tell  us  what  the  hidden  principles  of  divine 
grace  and  goodness  may  yet  do  for  mankind  ? 

It  required  the  genius  of  a  Newton  to  discover  the  true  theory  of 
the  heavens  ;  but  how  many  of  the  secrets  of  Nature  are  yet  unex- 


118 

plored !  We  are  yet  only  in  the  vestibule  of  Nature,  and  have  not 
found  the  key  to  the  inner  sanctuary  of  her  being.  As  with  nature, 
so  with  grace  and  the  supernatural  powers  of  divinity.  We  know 
not  how  much  may  be  accomplished  for  mankind.  Though  God  no 
longer  dwells  visibly  among  the  sons  of  men,  He  has  left  behind  a 
train  of  light  like  that  which  illumines  the  earth  in  the  darkest  hour 
of  the  tempest.  Upon  the  higher  elevations  and  prominent  peaks 
of  Christian  contemplation,  rising  far  above  the  clouds  and  shadows 
of  a  gross,  material  world,  we  can  discover  a  kindling  light  issuing 
from  the  Eternal  luminary,  and  flooding  the  world  with  its  beneficent 
radiance.  God's  work  will  go  on  in  His  Church  till  all  things  be 
perfected  unto  the  fullness  of  the  day  of  Christ  Jesus.  That  Church 
stood  by  at  the  birth  of  civilization,  nursed  it  in  its  infancy,  and  will 
follow  its  manifold  courses  through  all  succeeding  ages,  for  "  Age 
cannot  wither  nor  custom  stale  her  infinite  variety." 


YIII. 
HOW  FAMOUS  MEN  DIED. 

The  new  school  of  Cliristian  Science,  as  its  votaries  have  baj^tized 
it,  professes  to  have  discovered,  if  not  a  remedy  against  death,  at 
least  a  method  for  the  removal  of  the  dread  which  has  always  accom- 
panied the  destroyer's  advent.  If,  as  they  allege,  the}^  are  competent 
to  mend  a  broken  leg  without  the  intervention  of  a  surgeon,  it  would 
seem  not  much  more  hazardous  for  them  not  only  to  annihilate  the 
fear  of  death,  but  to  destroy  all  possibility  of  the  dissolution  of  this 
"  frail  and  fickle  frame"  of  ours,  and  even  indefinitely  to  prolong  the 
term  of  human  existence.  Ponce  de  Leon's  fountain  of  perpetual 
youth  has  at  last  been  discovered  in  the  metaphysical  mazes  of  New 
England  philosophy  !  But,  "  as  for  our  single  selves  we  had  as  lief  " 
credit  them  with  the  capacity  to  accomplish  the  one  as  to  do  the 
other.  We  fear  that  death  must  always  continue  to  be,  as  it  has 
been,  the  dread  and  awful  archer  and  the  king  of  terrors  to  the  ma- 
jority of  men,  and  that  nothing. can  temper  the  rigor  of  his  wrath, 
but  the  protecting  aegis  of  a  life  of  virtue  and  sinlessness. 

In  view,  however,  of  the  frequent  reflections  that  must  occur  to 
every  man  as  to  the  precise  nature  of  what  his  feehngs  shall  be  in 
that  supremity  of  danger,  it  may  be  interesting  and  instructive  to 
observe  what  has  been  the  conduct  of  great  minds,  in  the  world's 
history,  when  brought  into  contact  with  what  shall  be  the  inevitable 
doom  of  all.  I  shall  devote  some  labor  and  research  to  the  ascertain- 
ment of  the  facts,  which,  as  they  appear  to  my  mind,  are  of  the 
most  obvious  interest.  Having  inspected  the  death-beds  of  these 
celebrities,  and  seen  the  manner  of  their  death,  we  can  then  examine, 
if  we  choose,  the  tenor  and  common  conduct  of  their  lives,  and  thence 
we  shall  be  able  to  infer  some  conclusions  as  to  how  the  method  of 
their  lives  influenced  the  manner  of  their  death  ;  which  deductions, 


120 

doubtless,  shall  be  salutary  and  profitable  to  ourselves.  Each  can 
frame  his  own  reflections. 

Engaged  one  evening,  some  time  ago,  in  perusing  a  page  of  the 
Bible  wherein  it  is  recorded  that  Lamech  slew  by  chance,  as  it  is- 
supposed,  the  unhappy  fratricide  Cain,  I  said  within  myself,  this  is 
surely  a  conspicuous  instance  of  the  punishment  of  heaven.  But  on 
learning  that  Lamech  unmercifully  beat  to  death  the  stripling  by 
whom  he  was  led  into  error,  I  was  fain  to  think  that  both  divine  and 
poetic  justice  required  that  Lamech  should  encounter  some  un- 
timely and  violent  taking  off,  and  I  was  relieved  to  learn  that,  like 
the  rest  of  the  patriarchs,  he  simply  "died,"  as  do  ordinary 
mortals. 

I  have  made  mention  of  this  ej)isode  of  Lamech's  history  merely 
to  show  that  it  is  not  to  be  expected,  as  many  believe,  that  a  bad 
man  must  die  a  violent  death.  Indeed,  I  have  been  powerfully 
struck  at  witnessing  the  apparent  calm  and  composure  with  which 
I  have  seen  some  godless  unbelievers  die,  contrasted  with  the  alarm, 
reluctance,  and  fright  of  many  whom  I  had  no  ray  of  reason  to  think 
otherwise  than  as  just  and  upright  Christians.  Perhaps,  in  the  one 
case,  it  was  the  torpidity  and  apathy  of  despair,  and  in  the  other  the 
anxiety  of  the  Christian  respecting  futurity. 

It  chanced  to  be  the  writer's  own  experience  to  stand  more  than 
once,  face  to  face,  with  the  dread  destroyer,  and  he  is  frank  enough 
to  say  that  his  feelings  were  far  from  calm  and  comfortable,  to  say 
nothing  of  his  terror  and  dismay.  But  this  may  only  argue  his  un- 
fitness, from  a  Christian  point  of  view,  to  meet  his  end  with  equa- 
nimity. 

It  might  savor  too  much  of  egotism  to  detail  the  circumstances, 
and,  besides,  they  may  be  of  limited  interest ;  and  therefore  we  shall 
pass  to  the  consideration  of  the  cases  which  we  purpose  to  examine. 

Sacred  Writ  furnishes  us  with  many  instances  of  death,  sublime, 
heroic,  awful,  terrible,  serene,  and  tranquil.  Some,  like  Abraham,  and 
Jacob,  and  Moses,  "  decaying,  died  at  a  good  old  age  ;  and  having 
lived  a  long  time,  and  being  full  of  days,  were  gathered  to  their 
people." 

The  peaceful  end  of  the  patriarchs  was  probably  the  reward  of 
their  virtues.  But  there  is  a  touch  of  pathos  in  the  demise  of  Moses 
on  Phasga's  height,  whence  he  could  look  over  the  land  of  Ephraim 


121 

and  Juda  and  the  plain  of  Jericho,  and  the  city  of  palm-trees,  as  far 
as  Segor,  but  could  not  pass  into  the  promised  land.  Nahab  and 
Abiu,  for  offering  strange  fire,  were  burnt  by  fire  from  heaven. 
The  subhme  death  of  Samson  is  in  striking  contrast  with  the  fear- 
ful fate  of  Saul ;  and  the  courage  and  heroism  of  the  one  with  the 
cowardice  of  the  other.  Achitophel  and  Judas,  the  one  through 
envy,  and  the  other  through  remorse,  came  to  the  same  suicidal  end. 
The  proud  Assyrian  Sennacherib,  who  perished  by  jbhe  parricidal 
hands  of  his  own  offspring,  met  an  awful  doom,  but  less  horrible, 
perhaps,  than  that  of  Jezebel.  Ezechias  shrank  from  going  to  the 
"  gates  of  the  grave,"  and  rejoiced  at  the  retrogression  of  the  sun- 
dial. 

These  references  might  be  multiplied  indefinitely,  but  as  they  do 
not,  for  the  most  part,  record  the  sentiments  of  the  subjects  in  the 
presence  of  death,  they  are  not  very  apposite  to  our  purpose,  which 
is  not  so  much  to  find  how  men  came  to  their  death  as  how  they 
bore  themselves  in  the  final  moments  of  their  lives. 

The  most  shining  example,  of  course,  of  fortitude,  courage,  and 
resignation,  is  presented  in  the  death  of  our  Saviour.  His  last  words 
are  such  as  should  be  in  the  mouth  of  every  dying  Christian  who  is 
possessed  of  speech.  But  here  we  are  subjecting  to  scnitiny  the 
conduct  of  heterogeneous  classes  of  men,  whether  Jew  or  Gentile, 
Christain  or  Pagan. 

It  is  a  pity  that  Homer's  end  is  not  better  known  ;  and  we  are 
compelled  to  submit  to  the  same  dearih  of  information  as  to  Shakes- 
peare. Julius  Caesar's  stinging  rebuke  to  Brutus  was  the  only  ex- 
hibition of  his  feehng  when  he  felt  his  fatal  wounds.  Mirabeau,  ac- 
cording to  De  Lamartine,  uttered  as  his  last  words,  "  Sprinkle  me 
with  perfume,  crown  me  with  flowers,  that  I  may  thus  enter  upon 
eternal  sleep."  "  If  he  had  beheved  in  God  he  might  have  died  a 
martyr,"  says  Lamartine.  Voltaire,  according  to  some,  died  in  abject 
terror  and  distress,  and  in  the  grip  with  death  the  smile  of  mockery 
and  raillery  faded  from  the  arch-scoffer's  lips.  The  conclusion  of 
Paine's  life  was  of  a  similar  character,  if  we  are  to  credit  Fr. 
Fenwick. 

Queen  Elizabeth's  impassioned  appeal  for  another  hour  of  life  is 
indeed  well  known.  The  Emperor  Adrian,  when  dying,  made  the 
remarkable  address  to  his  soul  which  Alexander  Pope  has  f  eHcitously 


122 

translated.  It  is  said  tliat  Boscommon,  at  the  moment  of  expiring, 
sang  with  much  force  and  energy,  so  as  to  show  his  oA^n  devotion, 
two  stanzas  of  his  own  Dies  Irw.  Klopstock,  Disraeh  tells  us,  had 
in  his  Messiah  made  the  death  of  Mary,  sister  of  Lazarus,  a  picture 
of  the  death  of  the  just  ;  and  on  his  own  death-bed  was  found 
repeating  some  of  the  verses  on  Mary,  "  thus  exhorting  himself  to 
die  by  the  accents  of  his  own  harp."  Harvey,  the  discoverer  of  the 
circulation  of  the  blood,  kept  feeling  the  state  of  his  pulse  until  the 
final  moment ;  and  Haller,  another  physician,  also  observing  his 
pulse  in  the  final  critical  moment,  turned  to  a  brother  physician,  and 
saying,  "  My  friend,  the  artery  ceases  to  beat,"  instantly  expired. 

Henry  the  VIII.,  according  to  some,  died  in  the  anguish  of 
despair.  Still  another  account  puts  into  his  mouth  the  most  edify- 
ing sentiments  of  devotion.  The  melancholy  death  of  Henry's 
minister,  however,  is  a  matter  of  well-ascertained  history,  and  has 
been  touchingly  presented  by  Shakespeare's  master  hand.  "Father 
Abbot,  I  am  come  to  lay  my  bones  among  you.  Master  Kyngston,  I 
pray  you  have  me  commended  to  the  King  ;  had  I  but  served  God 
as  diligently  as  I  have  served  him.  He  would  not  now  have  given 
me  over  in  my  gray  hairs." 

The  heroic  fortitude  of  Sarsfield,  whose  "  ruling  passion  strong 
in  death  "  was  patriotism,  is  history.  Catching  his  heart's  blood  in 
his  hand,  he  cried  aloud,  "  Would  that  this  had  been  shed  for 
Ireland."  This  conduct  of  Sarsfield  brings  to  mind  the  alleged  de- 
spairing act  of  Julian  the  Apostate,  who  is  said  to  have  tossed  his 
blood  towards  heaven,  uttering  at  the  same  time  the  remorseful  cry, 
"  O  Galilean,  thou  hast  conquered." 

There  is  a  long  list  of  those  who  fell  by  their  own  hand,  since  the 
day  that  Saul's  armor-bearer  refused  to  slay  him.  Decius  immo- 
lated himself  upon  the  altar  of  his  country. 

Socrates,  with  calm  intrepidity,  drained  the  fatal  hemlock.  Cato 
thrust  the  poniard  at  his  heart,  but  he  was  probably  guilty  of  levities 
of  a  softer  nature  than  that  of  the  steel  with  which  he  let  life  run 
out  of  his  body.  Lucretia  has  won  great  renown  in  the  opinion  of 
many. 

But  it  is  time  to  pass  to  the  Christian  side  of  the  subject,  and 
gaze  on  the  bed  of  death  which  is  smoothed  by  the  hand  of  religion. 

Addison  sent  for  his  stepson,  the  young  Earl  of  Warwick,  in  order 


123 

that  the  youtli  might  behold  how  a  Christian  could  die  in  peace. 
Gregory  the  Great,  about  to  yield  up  his  life,  declared,  "I  have 
loved  justice  and  hated  iniquity  ;  therefore  do  I  die  in  exile." 
O'Connell,  the  tribune  and  liberator,  evinced  at  once  his  patriotism 
and  religion,  by  his  solemn  exclamation,  ''  My  body  to  Ireland,  my 
heart  to  Rome,  and  my  soul  to  God."  Pius  IX.,  of  immortal  mem- 
ory, said,  on  the  approach  of  his  physician,  "  Dear  doctor,  it  is  over 
now."  And  when,  having  received  the  sacraments,  the  prayers  of 
the  dying  were  being  said,  and  Cardinal  Bilio  in  tears  hesitated  to 
speak  the  last  farewell,  the  great  Pontiff  himself  ejaculated,  "  In 
Domum  domini  ibimus,"  *'  We  shall  go  into  the  house  of  the  Lord  "; 
and  then  repeated  the  words  the  Cardinal  could  not  utter,  "Go 
forth,  Christian  soul."  And  shortly  after,  imparting  his  benediction 
to  those  present,  he  expired. 

Venerable  Bede,  who  labored  for  God  in  all  he  wrote  and  did, 
died  while  actually  singing  the  praises  of  his  Maker. 

He  was  engaged  during  his  last  illness  in  making  an  Anglo- 
Saxon  translation  of  the  gospel  of  St.  John.  The  account  of  his 
death  by  his  disciple,  Cuthbei-t,  is  too  interesting  to  be  omitted  here  : 

"  He  passed  the  remainder  of  the  day  in  prayer  and  conversation  ; 
in  the  evening,  when  his  scribe  again  interrupted  him,  saying, 
*  Master  dear,  there  is  yet  one  sentence  not  written. '  Bede  told 
him  to  write  quickly,  and  he  dictated  a  few  words,  when  the  youth 
exclaimed  :  *It  is  now  done.'  *Thou  hast  well  said,'  answered 
Bede,  '  it  is  done.  Support  my  head  with  thy  hands,  for  I  desire 
to  sit  facing  the  holy  place  where  I  was  wont  to  pray.  There  let  me 
invoke  my  heavenly  Father.'  And  thus,  on  the  floor  of  his  cell, 
chanting  the  Gloria  Palri,  he  had  just  strength  enough  to  proceed  to 
the  end  of  the  phrase  when  he  breathed  out  his  soul  with  his  last 
words,  Spiritui  Sando,  on  his  lips." 

That  great  prodigy  of  learning.  Sir  James  Mcintosh,  lay  dying  in 
the  city  of  London.  The  attendants,  watching  his  last  moments, 
saw  his  lips  move,  and  bending  near  to  catch  the  last  sounds,  heard, 
"  Jesus,  love !  "  "  Jesus,  love !  the  same  thing."  These  were  the  last 
words  that  he  ever  spoke. 

How  touching  and  edifying  the  deaths  of  St.  Jerome  and  St. 
Benedict.* 

*  The  other  day  the  whole  Christian  world  was  profoundly  stirred  by  the 


124 

We  will  close  with  another  instance.  It  is  that  of  a  Christian 
youth  of  our  own  time,  who  was  stricken  by  a  fatal  malady.  He  was 
the  sole  support  of  an  aged  widowed  mother,  who  stood  bathed  in 
tears  beside  the  bedside  of  her  dying  child,  and  saw  the  vampire^ 
death,  suck  life's  honey  from  the  lips.  But  as  the  end  approached, 
the  filmy  eye  lighted  up,  the  shadowy  hands  were  raised  and 
clasped,  and  turning  to  the  disconsolate  mother,  the  lips  were  parted 
and  the  feeble  voice  cried  out  exultantly, — its  last  cry  on  earth, 
"  Mother,  give  thanks  to  God." 

If  we  ponder  the  examples  thus  cited  almost  at  random,  we 
shall  not  fail  to  discover  that  as  the  Christian  religion  alone  can 
teach  us  how  to  Uve,  so  it  alone  can  teach  us  how  to  die.  For 
neither  rank  nor  fortune,  strength  nor  beauty,  power  nor  pelf,  nor 
all  those  fond  expectations  that  we  build  upon  them,  can  oppose  any 
effectual  barrier  to  the  ravages  of  death,  nor  supply  us  with  the 
courage,  fortitude,  and  magnanimity  of  mind  required  to  sustain  us 
in  the  hour  of  final  separation. 

announcement  of  the  death  of  one  of  the  greatest  characters  of  this  or  any 
other  age,  the  illustrious  Cardinal  Newman.  It  is  reported  that  just  before  he 
lapsed  into  insensibility  he  uttered  the  remarkable  words,  '-'  I  hear  the  music 
of  heaven.     All  is  sunshine." 


IX. 

EDUCATION. 

Chapter  I. — The  State  versus  the  Individual. 

I  DISCOVER  two  powerful,  if  not  predominant,  passions  ever  playing 
within  the  hearts  of  men.  and  they  are  often  found  to  stand  in 
deadly  conflict.  The  one  is  the  pride  of  power,  and  the  other  the 
love  of  liberty.  The  first  is  rooted  in  that  egotism  and  selfishness 
which  are  the  fruit  of  sin;  the  second  is  fixed  in  the  effect  of  God's 
creative  act  sowing  imp^ishably  in  human  nature  the  seeds  of  free- 
dom.    It  is  not  easy  to  say  which  is  the  stronger  feeling  of  the  two. 

If  we  analyze  this  thii-st  for  power,  we  find  its  well-spring  far 
down  in  the  human  heai-t,  in  that  passion  for  superiority  which, 
though  too  often  based  on  pride  and  arrogance,  seems  almost  natural 
to  man.  It  assumes  endless  forms,  but  in  principle  it  is  one.  It  is 
sometimes  called  ambition,  and  is  deemed  the  spui*  of  noble  minds. 
It  moves  the  intrepid  explorer  to  turn  aside  from  the  haunts  of  civil- 
ization, to  pursue  his  paths  across  trackless  seas  and  oceans,  to  pene- 
trate the  dim  interior  of  the  hitherto  untrodden  forest,  and  traverse 
the  arid  and  burning  desert  that,  at  length  possessed  of  the  object 
of  his  tireless  search,  he  can  exclaim  Eureka,  and  hand  down  his 
name  to  an  admiring  posterity  as  the  first  to  claim  a  continent,  track 
a  river,  measure  a  mountain,  or  circumnavigate  the  globe.  The  same 
burning  energy  spui's  on  the  pale  student,  sitting  over  his  midnight 
oil,  wasting  his  substance  and  turning  his  blood  into  thought,  that 
future  generations  may  link  his  name  with  the  discovery  of  a 
sidereal  system,  the  invention  of  a  mechanical  device,  or  the  produc- 
tion of  some  masterpiece  of  music,  of  painting,  or  of  literature. 
And  what  is  the  impelling  motive  ?  Not  unfrequently  it  is  not  the 
love  of  these  achievements  for  their  own  sake,  nor  for  a  better  rea- 
son, but  it  is  the  passion  to  excel,  to  outstrip  one's  fellow-men. 


126 

This  love  of  superiority  never  manifests  itself  witli  more  intensity 
than  when  exercised  by  man  over  man  himself.  If  it  is  flattering 
to  man  to  outshine  his  fellows  in  things  external  to  them,  it  is 
doubly  pleasing  to  control  his  fellow-creatures  in  those  internal  pos- 
sessions which  distinguish  man  as  man — his  freedom  and  intelli- 
gence. Just  here  it  is  that  pride  of  opinion  and  arrogance  of  mind 
come  into  operation,  and  give  birth  to  that  intolerance  which  has 
piled  burning  fagots  on  the  son  of  science  and  nailed  true  reformers 
to  the  stake.  Here,  too,  appears  the  most  overmastering  passion  of 
them  all — the  desire  of  one  man's  will  to  dominate  the  will  of  those 
who  were  made  to  walk  the  earth  as  freely  as  himself.  Under  the 
unchecked  sallies  of  this  fierce  desire  for  ascendency,  men  are  some- 
times capable  of  the  most  illiberal  sentiments,  and  the  most  selfish 
and  base-minded  conduct  towards  those  whom  circumstances  make 
the  victims  of  their  imperious  sway.  To  compass  the  object  of  their 
vaulting  ambition  principle,  honor,  conscience  are  sunk  out  of  sight, 
and  even  pity,  compassion,  and  the  most  common  instincts  of 
humanity,  are  trampled  down  like  the  dust  of  earth.  Thwarted  of 
their  aim,  they  are  transformed  into  fiends  and  tyrants,  who,  like  a 
Nero,  a  Pisistratus,  sport  with  the  lives  of  men  and  gloat  in  their  de- 
struction. Foiled  by  those  they  fear,  they  pine  with  envy  and,  con- 
sumed with  jealousy,  they  employ  every  covert,  but  despicable,  art 
to  effect  the  removal  or  the  ruin  of  their  rivals,  for  if  "Love  be 
strong  as  death,  jealousy  is  hard  as  hell." 

As  it  happens  with  individuals,  so  also  does  it  come  to  pass  with 
society.  Human  history,  from  its  opening  to  its  latest  page,  affords 
confirmation  of  this  fact.  Each  class  and  cast  loves  to  aggrandize 
its  power  and  extend  its  authority.  So  sweet  is  power,  so  strong 
the  passion  to  rule. 

As,  however,  society  cannot  exist  without  the  governing  and  the 
governed  classes,  the  history  of  humanity  is  an  almost  unbroken 
record  of  a  struggle  between  those  who,  set  by  fortune,  force,  or 
choice,  above  the  rest,  sought  to  extend  their  dominion,  and  those 
who,  placed  beneath  the  yoke  of  subjection,  have  striven,  often,  alas ! 
in  vain,  to  preserve  their  rights  and  defend  their  libei-ties  against 
the  encroachments  of  usurpation  and  oppression.  From  the  out- 
come of  this  struggle  have  arisen,  for  the  most  part,  the  different 
forms  of  government  which  have  appeared  among  the  sons  of  men. 


127 

To  grasp  the  full  comprehension  of  this  strange  outcome  of  an 
age-long  strife,  we  have  only  to  trace  the  progress  of  humanity 
under  the  operation  of  government,  not  so  much  according  to  ab- 
stract theories,  as  in  the  light  of  facts,  or  according  to  historical  de- 
velopment. Government  is  both  a  right  and  a  fact;  I  view  it  here 
as  a  fact,  but  shall  say  something  later  about  the  right. 

The  oldest  system  of  government  known  to  man  is  the  patriarchal, 
which  had  its  foundation  in  the  authority  of  the  parent  over  the 
child.  The  father  was  the  head  of  the  family;  the  head  of  the 
eldest  family  was  the  chief  of  the  tribe,  and  the  chief  of  the  oldest 
tribe  was  the  head  of  the  nation.  At  first  all  governments  were 
tribal.  The  tribal  form  is  seen  in  the  wandering  hordes  of  Arabia, 
the  clans  and  Septs  of  Ireland  and  England,  the  castes  of  India,  and 
the  gentes  of  Rome.  No  alien  had  any  part  in  the  religious  or  polit- 
ical rights  of  the  people,  unless  he  were  adopted  into  the  tribe. 
Blood  and  kinship  were  the  basis  of  all  political  privileges,  and 
where  these  had  no  actual  existence,  they  were,  as  men  gi-ew  more 
tolerant  of  strangers,  established  by  the  fiction  of  legal  adoption. 
Under  this  primitive  system,  both  the  religious  and  political  control 
was  vested  in  one  and  the  same  individual,  the  patriarchal  head  of 
the  Sept  or  tribe.  Under  such  system,  it  is  obvious,  the  education  of 
youth  was,  if  not  the  function,  at  least  the  (alleged)  right  of  the  tribal 
chief,  because  the  whole  office  of  government  devolved  upon  the 
supreme  head  of  society.  All  such  forms  of  government  are  bar- 
baric and  chiefly  despotic,  for  where  power  and  authority  are  re- 
garded as  a  private  right,  and  not  a  public  trust,  absolutism  and 
despotism  will  ultimately  prevail.  This  springs  from  the  pride  of 
powder  before  alluded  to,  and  universal  as  humanity.  Men  are  not 
angels,  but  children  of  clay,  and  apart  from  the  grace  and  light  of 
Christianity,  they  differ  but  little  from  the  creeping  things  around 
them.  They  have  no  right  but  might;  no  power  but  force;  no  law 
but  selfishness  and  personal  gratification. 

Such  being  the  fact,  it  can  be  readily  inferred  that  where  govern- 
ment is  clannish,  the  land  is  constantly  alive  with  broils  and  feuds. 
The  arbitrary  will  of  the  despotic  ruler  is  opposed  by  his  oppressed 
subjects,  and  various  expedients  are  resorted  to  to  temper  his 
authority  and  restrain  his  power. 

The  first  evidence  of  this  appears  in  the  rise  of  an  aristocracy,  like 


128 

the  Koman  patricians,  or  the  lords  of  feudalism,  comprising  the 
heads  of  the  principal  families,  and  forming  a  sort  of  Senate  to 
share  the  concerns  of  government  with  the  Sovereign.  The  remedy 
was  always  ineffectual  while  authority  was  held  to  be  a  personal 
right,  exercised  generally  neither  for  nor  by  the  people.  Aristocracy 
was  in  no  way  remedial  of  the  evils  of  monarchy,  where  both  ruled, 
each  by  its  own  sweet  will.  In  those  dim  days  there  was  no  voice 
to  teach  (the  Church  excepted),  and  no  power  to  enforce  the  modern 
maxim,  that  public  office  was  a  public  trust. 

Under  the  Jewish  'dispensation  there  was,  doubtless,  more  even 
and  exact  justice  administered  than  elsewhere  obtained;  but,  then, 
the  Jews  lived  under  a  theocracy,  and  repeated  revelations  were 
necessary  to  preserve  society  from  disintegration. 

Moses  gave  to  his  people  a  system  of  laws,  both  civil  and  religious, 
but  under  his  economy  there  existed  no  political  constitution  in  a 
strict  sense.  He  did  not  alter  or  diminish  the  power  of  the  patri- 
archs, but  rather  confirmed  their  authority.  If  he  and  his  successors 
assumed  the  chief  control  of  affairs,  it  was  by  divine  appointment  so 
ordered,  and  such  manner  of  government  was  designed  for  the  ex- 
traordinary emergency  of  the  long  and  memorable  journey  of  the 
Jews  to  the  promised  land.  Hence  Moses  did  not  abolish  the  tribal 
or  patriarchal  system.  Nay,  more;  he  adopted,  when  purged  of 
their  grossness  and  idolatry,  the  laws  and  customs  which  immemo- 
rial usage  had  sanctioned  among  the  early  forefathers  of  the  Jew- 
ish people.  Upon  the  conclusion  of  their  pilgrimage,  the  old  style 
of  government  was  continued,  and  where  the  various  tribes  had  set- 
tled upon  their  allotted  lands,  it  was  to  repose  or  to  struggle  on  a  field 
where  the  feeble  arm  of  the  patriarchal  chieftain  was  exerted  to 
maintain  a  due  equipoise  between  liberty  and  authority. 

As  it  was  in  the  tents  of  Abraham  in  the  land  of  Mamre,  so  was  it 
in  Palestine;  the  father  of  the  family,  or  the  chief  of  the  tribe,  was 
the  ruler,  and  his  authority  was  transmitted  by  heredity  to  succeed- 
ing generations. 

If  in  this  economy  there  was  no  supreme  or  central  power  either 
to  maintain  unity  or  to  excite  jealousy,  nevertheless  the  elders  of 
the  community  ruled  with  despotic  sway,  and  dispensed  at  the  city 
gates  such  justice  as  seemed  accommodated  to  the  people  whom  they 
governed.     As  they  felt  no  check  upon  their  authority,  save  when  in 


120 

matters  of  profound  legal  difficulty,  the  arbitration  of  the  priests 
was  invoked;  it  is  readily  conceivable  that  a  conflict  of  interests  was 
inevitable,  and  freedom  and  power  came  into  frequent  and  violent 
collision.  Moreover,  people  long  accustomed  to  the  independence 
of  nomadic  life  are  always  averse  to  the  exercise  of  strong  central 
authority,  nay,  to  authority  of  any  kind.  Only  when  attacked  by 
such  superior  numbers  as  to  threaten  the  extinction  or  subjugation 
of  several  tribes,  might  a  leader  or  dictator  be  chosen  whose  wisdom 
and  prowess  appointed  him  to  the  post  of  danger,  but  whose  author- 
ity lapsed  with  the  emergency  that  called  him  forth. 

Even  when  God  raised  up  judges  to  rule  Israel,  the  people,  tired 
of  the  yoke,  rejected  Samuel  to  constitute  a  king  who  imposed  upon 
them  a  harsher  and  more  unbearable  burden.  And  when  we  con- 
sider, that  of  all  who  ruled  over  God's  chosen  people  during  six 
hundred  years,  only  three  were  proved  to  be  just  and  God-fearing 
men,  the  struggle  of  the  people  to  maintain  their  political  and  social 
rights  must  have  been  as  bitter  as  it  was  protracted.  If  such  be  the 
<;ase  under  theocracy,  when  theocracy  meant  much  more  than  the 
divine  right  of  kings  in  the  Middle  Ages,  and  stood  for  a  fact  and 
not  a  fiction,  what  chapter  of  history  is  long  enough  to  contain  a 
record  of  the  contentions  born  of  the  attempt,  on  the  one  hand,  to 
uphold,  on  the  other  to  suppress,  popular  liberty  among  peoples  not 
favored  like  the  Jews  with  the  direct  and  often  visible  assistance  and 
counsel  of  Jehovah  ? 

The  patriarchal  system,  as  I  have  said,  was  a  despotic  system,  for 
-even  if  he  had  the  absolute  right  to  govern  his  own  child,  he  had  no 
authority  to  govern  the  children  of  other  fathers  than  himself,  and 
his  power,  besides,  was  claimed  as  a  natural  personal  absolute  right, 
which  is  the  essence  of  tj'ranny  and  usui-pation. 

With  the  advent  of  civilization  came  a  change.  Under  Clisthenes 
in  Athens,  about  510  b.c,  so  far  as  I  am  able  to  discover,  the  first 
seeds  of  civilization  were  planted.  This  Athenian  statesman  intro- 
duced several  important  changes  into  the  constitution,  the  most 
momentous  of  which  was,  that,  consequent  upon  the  division  of  the 
people  into  ten  tribes  instead  of  four,  politically  ascribed  to  the  soil, 
all  political  rights  became  territorial  instead  of  personal.  But  what 
change  is  this  ?  Was  not  government  before  this  era  founded  upon 
landed  property?  Yes,  but  under  the  patriarchal  system,  as  in  the 
9 


130 

later  feudal,  the  right  of  dominion  was  vested  solely  in  the  patriarch 
or  suzerain.  The  chieftain  of  the  tribe  was  sole  proprietor,  in  most 
cases,  and  the  minor  chiefs  held  from  him  and  under  him.  Pro- 
prietary rights  were  vested  in  the  owner,  but  the  owner  and  the 
ruler  were  one  and  the  same  individual.  Owning  the  soil,  he 
claimed,  by  consequence,  the  right  to  govern  as  subjects  all  who 
occupied  it.  Between  the  landlord  and  his  tenant-subjects,  there- 
fore, the  struggle  was  permanent. 

But  the  change  wrought  by  Clisthenes,  which  was  the  base  of 
Grecian  liberty,  attained  fuller  development  under  the  Roman 
Republic. 

The  father  still  continued  to  rule  as  father,  and  within  the  family 
sphere  was  supreme,  but  could  govern  none  but  his  own  offspring. 
The  State  stepped  in  to  limit  his  authority,  and  with  the  State  came 
the  civil  order  or  civihzation.  The  State  was  the  organic  people,  at- 
tached to  the  soil,  and  expressing  its  will  through  the  senate,  or  in 
pure  or  qualified  democracies,  through  popular  assemblies,  like  the 
Roman  comitia  or  the  Grecian  popular  assemblies.  No  one  not 
attached  to  the  soil,  or,  to  speak  more  correctly,  not  comprehended 
within  the  boundaries  of  the  State,  could  be  invested  with  the  pre- 
rogatives of  citizenship,  or  could  possess  pohtical  rights.  In  this 
theory,  the  land  claimed  the  man,  not  the  man  the  land,  and  his  civil 
rights  came  not  by  favor  of  any  patriarchal  proprietor,  but  from  the 
fact  that  every  son  of  the  soil,  so  to  say,  was  a  citizen  of  the  State. 

On  the  day  that  the  State  was  founded  civilization  was  born,  for 
civilization  means  progress,  and  progress  is  impossible  under  the 
despotisms  that  spring  from  systems  in  which  pohtical  liberty  is  con- 
ditioned upon  the  arbitrary  will  of  the  individual,  whether  governor 
only,  or  both  proprietor  and  governor. 

After  all,  the  right  to  govern  is  not  founded  upon  the  right  of 
property,  unless  where  dominion  is  absolute,  and  it  is  absolute  in 
God  alone.  The  monarchical  and  aristocratical  forms  of  government 
are,  no  doubt,  the  historical  outcome  of  the  old  patriarchal  system  in 
which  the  governor  was  both  governor  and  ruler.  Because  they  were 
supreme  lords,  they  claimed  to  be  supreme  sovereigns.  This,  a 
false  development  of  the  right  of  property,  and  the  natural  propen- 
sity of  men  to  aggrandize  power  and  authority,  especially  when,  as 
lords  of  the  soil,  their  opportunities  for  such  dilatation  are  so  ample, 


131 

easily  gives  rise  to  extreme  theories  on  the  side  of  those  who  deplore 
the  evil,  and  see  no  remedy  save  in  the  extinction  of  all  individual 
ownership  in  the  land  itself.     But  this  is  digressive. 

With  the  foundation  of  the  State,  however,  the  liberty  of  the  in- 
dividual was  not  imperishably  secured.  Then,  in  fact,  the  fight  for 
freedom  fairly  began.  "Was  the  patriarch  a  usurper,  the  State  could 
be  a  more  intolerable  tyrant.  Was  the  ancient  chieftain  of  the  clan 
a  selfish  sovereign,  the  State  could  be  an  unconscionable  despot. 
The  reason  seems  to  reside  in  this,  that  a  wrong  is  more  readily  per- 
petrated where  many  are  concerned,  for  then  no  one  appears  person- 
ally accountable. 

Wherefore,  although  the  State  was  founded  for  the  protection"  and 
perpetuation  of  the  liberties  of  the  people,  the  time  came  when  it 
sought  to  abridge,  if  not  destroy,  what  it  was  ordained  to  foster  and 
facilitate. 

In  recognition  of  this  fact,  history  shows  how  in  different  ages  the 
populace  strove  to  stem  the  tide  of  supremacy,  and  alter  the  form 
of  government  as  seemed  best  calculated  to  preserve  individual 
Uberty. 

Feeling  at  one  time  the  need  of  a  powerful  hand  to  guide  the  des- 
tinies of  the  nation,  or  lead  it  on  to  coveted  victory,  they  proclaimed 
a  dictator,  like  a  Sulla  or  Marius,  and  again  groaning  under  the 
encroachments  of  a  despot,  they  conspired  for  the  downfall  of  a 
Caesar. 

Like  the  Jews  of  old,  they  called  aloud  for  kings  to  reign  over 
them,  and,  oppressed  by  the  exactions  of  royalty,  they  raised  the 
banners  of  revolution,  and  hurled  age-long  dynasties  from  gilded 
thrones  and  asserted  the  majesty  of  democracy. 

To  meet  the  countless  difficulties  that  environ  the  exercise  of 
power,  the  people  devised  at  one  time  a  limited  or  constitutional 
monarchy,  at  another  an  aristocracy,  and,  again,  a  democracy,  or 
some  one  of  the  mixed  forms  of  government  which  appeared  best 
adapted  to  their  wants  or  more  congenial  to  their  wishes  and  desires. 
But  ever  and  always  we  discover  a  struggle  between  those  invested 
with  power  on  the  one  side,  and  those  who  are  subject  to  it  on  the 
other. 

Daring  the  past  century,  perhaps  more  than  ever,  this  contest  has 
been  the  characteristic  of  every  national  movement,  and  immense 


Vd2 

social  changes  have  occurred  which  have  convulsed  Europe  to  its 
centre,  and  j)ulled  down  the  oldest  dynasties  and  most  time-conse- 
crated aristocracies  the  world  has  ever  seen. 

What  principle  lies  back  of  all  this  unrest  and  agitation  ;  this 
levelling  and  upbuilding  ;  this  change  and  reformation  ?  What,  but 
the  unquenchable  aspiration  of  the  people  for  self-government  and 
popular  rights  ?  It  manifests  itself  in  the  efforts  of  Poland,  Bulgaria, 
Ireland,  and  Cuba,  to  secure  for  themselves  the  right  of  self-govern- 
ment and  local  independence. 

There  are,  it  seems  to  me,  two  great  opposing  forces  in  this  world 
waging  an  endless  war,  and  they  are  despotism  and  democracy. 
Most  generally,  it  may  be,  it  is  extreme  parties  that  are  engaged  in 
the  battle  —  anarchists  and  tyrants  —  and  very  often  democratic 
government  is  identified  with  the  excesses  of  the  mob  and  the  hor- 
rors of  the  revolution.  More  commonly,  however,  the  desolating 
social  upheavals  that,  like  the  waves  of  the  sea,  sweep  over  the  face 
of  society,  spring  from  the  tyi'anny  of  the  power-holders,  who  love 
to  have  their  fellow-men  fall  down  and  worship  them,  either  as 
monarch,  king,  or  kaiser. 

God,  I  fain  would  think,  has  given  power  to  the  proletariat  for  the 
preservation  of  the  race,  for  had  He  by  divine  right  invested  it  irrev- 
ocably in  the  few,  society  could  never  stand  without  a  reconstruc- 
tion of  human  nature,  or  a  larger  latitude  for  heavenly  grace. 

When  people  are  ground  down  by  the  arbitrary  power  of  irrespon- 
sible rulers  and  the  popular  will  and  popular  rights  are  long  sup- 
pressed, the  outbreak  from  such  enslavement  is  nearly  always 
vehement  and  violent.  By  the  irate  populace  old  landmarks  are 
swept  away,  ancient  institutions  are  levelled  to  the  dust,  social  order 
is  demolished,  even  religion  is  imperilled  and  discarded  ;  for  men, 
demoralized  and  obdurated  by  oppression,  lose  respect  for  religion 
and  morality,  and  oftentimes  make  forfeit  of  their  faith  in  that  over- 
ruling Providence,  whose  goodness,  bounty,  and  justice  seem  incon- 
sistent with  the  existence  of  the  evils  that  fill  the  cup  of  life  with 
unmingled  bitterness.  We  are  always  ready  to  condemn  the  great 
army  of  the  discontented  as  the  enemies  of  peace  and  order ;  but 
let  us  remember  how  history's  pages  gleam  with  the  record  of  the 
burning  wrongs  endured  by  the  masses  of  mankind,  and  how  often 
the  piercing  cry  for  popular  liberty  was  quenched  in  human  blood. 


133 

Disgusted  with  the  sickly  scene  of  painted  courtiers  and  knee- 
crooking  flatterers  ;  grown  weary  of  the  glamour  of  regal  dignity  ; 
exasperated  at  the  sight  of  those  who,  while  "  they  toil  not,  neither 
do  they  spin,"  are  yet  able,  "  void  of  care,  to  loll  supine  in  state," 
although  they  who  are  "neither  of  coward  spirit  nor  unwilling 
hand  "  must  pine  in  poverty  and  misery  ;  the  plebeian  classes  often 
yield  to  the  fiercest  passions  which  beget  the  darkest  deeds  of  des- 
peration and  despair.     But  I  am  talking  of  extremes. 

In  the  ordinary  case,  though,  this  popular  disquietude  only  marks 
the  deathless  aspiration  of  the  people  for  the  air  of  libeiiy  and  the 
sunshine  of  freedom.  It  is  the  old  struggle  of  individual  freedom 
against  State  supremacy  or  absolutism.  It  was  fought  before  the 
field  of  Marathon  was  glorified,  and  before  Roman  valor  had  shed 
undying  renown  upon  the  plains  of  Philippi  or  the  immortal  attempt 
of  the  Gracchi  had  been  made  to  restore  the  ancient  constitution 
and  protect  the  liberty  of  the  citizen  against  the  centralizing  tenden- 
cies of  the  ruling  classes.  That  aspiration  and  that  spirit  obtained 
new  impetus  in  the  ^liddle  Ages,  and  it  flames  forth  with  redoubled 
ardor  at  the  present  day.  Before  it  all  obstacles  must  go  down. 
Nothing  can  withstand  its  progress.  It  has  the  handwriting  of  God 
upon  it,  and  no  human  agency  can  blot  it  out.  Sometimes  when 
tyranny  and  absolutism  hold  sway  it  breaks  out  with  volcanic  violence  ; 
again  it  works  silently  but  surely,  effecting  a  quiet  transition  from  bar- 
barism to  civilization,  from  personal  to  territorial  rights,  from  absolute 
to  constitutional  monarchy,  or  from  monarchy  and  aristocracy  to  the 
incomparable  majesty  and  dignity  of  pure  and  unfettered  democracy. 

From  the  very  dawn  of  human  history  to  the  present  hour  we 
behold  this  eternal  battle  between  the  rulers  and  the  ruled.  What 
does  it  signify  ?  If  it  has  meaning  at  all,  it  implies  a  truth,  God- 
given  and  God-guarded,  that  the  development  of  popular  power  and 
popular  rights  is  according  to  the  natural  law,  and  that  God  Himself 
wishes  no  limits  set  on  human  freedom  outside  those  necessary  for 
the  coherence  and  stability  of  the  permanent  existence  of  society. 
I  say  this  is  the  law  of  nature,  and  if  so  it  must  not,  it  cannot,, 
be  ignored.  It  may  at  times  be  guilty  of  excesses,  but  it  is  not  an 
unmitigated  evil  m  itself,  and  in  civilized  communities  virtue,  intel- 
ligence, and  patriotism  will  always  prescribe  its  limits  and  hold  it 
within  just  bounds. 


134 

It  is  a  natural  law,  and,  like  all  the  laws  of  nature,  it  cannot  be 
stemmed  or  stayed.  Tyrants  may  oppose  its  progress,  but  in  the 
end  they  will  bite  the  dust.  Those  who  raise  a  hand  in  sign  of  its 
destruction  will  go  the  way  of  the  Stuarts,  the  Bourbons,  the  Haps- 
burgs,  and  all  that  senseless  idolatry  of  man- worship  which,  whether 
in  a  Roman  Caesar,  or  a  Corsican  upstart,  or  Victorian  queen, 
cumbers  the  progress  of  humanity  and  the  development  of  the 
race. 

In  the  United  States  of  America  this  law  has  found  its  grandest 
realization.  Here  we  have  no  aristocracy  and  no  oligarchy,  and  the 
free  and  untitled  sons  of  the  soil  are  both  the  bulwark  and  the  basis 
of  the  State.  The  State  and  the  individual  are  in  our  favored  land 
each  in  its  own  sphere  supreme.  Rational  and  constitutional  libei-ty 
is  the  pride  and  glory  of  America.  Here  it  is  chargeable  with  few 
excesses.  It  has  never  pulled  down,  but  has  always  built  up  ;  it  has 
never  been  stained  by  the  blood-red  seal  of  anarchy  ;  it  has  never 
taught  the  philosophy  of  despair  ;  it  has  always  steered  a  safe  and 
steady  course.  It  is  bound  to  win  in  the  end,  because  it  is  the  wiU 
of  the  people,  and  in  its  rightful  acceptation  the  will  of  the  people 
is  the  will  of  God. 

The  tottering  thrones  of  royalty  may  stand  up  against  its  march  ; 
monarchs  may  league  for  its  destruction ;  the  State  may  frown  it 
down  and  seek  to  fetter  it  with  the  bands  of  centralization  ;  but  all 
these  obstacles  are  a  mere  feather  on  the  torrent's  tide,  for  what 
God  and  nature  have  ordained,  man  in  vain  must  seek  to  destroy. 

Society  to-day  demands  free  government.  The  demand  is  as 
reasonable  as  it  is  imperative.  Nothing  can  resist  it.  Education 
has  made  it  necessary.  An  educated  people  must  and  shall  be  free. 
To  educate  the  people,  then,  and  then  oppose  the  consequences,  is 
to  light  a  fire  with  powder  and  extinguish  it  with  straw. 

Nay,  more,  popular  rights,  free  government,  individual  liberty, 
are  the  legitimate  consoi-ts  of  Christianity.  "  Render  unto  Caesar 
the  things  that  are  Caesar's,  and  unto  God  the  things  that  are  God's." 
Christianity  proclaims  man's  freedom,  not  only  in  the  moral,  but  also 
in  the  political  order,  and  this  freedom  knows  no  limitations,  but  an 
infringement  of  the  rights  of  others.  In  the  days  o*f  their  swaddling- 
clothes,  monarchs  were  the  protectors  of  the  infant  commonwealths, 
but  when  the  Republic  became  a  man,  it  put  away  the  things  of  a 


135 

child.     Now  it  is  only  a  man,  but  having  passed  the  days  of  its  non- 
age, it  is  as  well  a  freeman. 

Where  does  the  Catholic  Church  stand,  on  the  side  of  State 
supremacy,  or  on  the  side  of  individual  freedom  ?  She  stands,  im- 
movable as  a  rock,  where  God  has  planted  her,  on  the  side  of  ra- 
tional and  constitutional  liberty,  and  she  will  never  stand  on  other 
ground,  whether  the  ruler  be  a  king,  an  emperor,  an  autocrat,  or 
President.  She  can  flourish  under  all,  but  her  sympathies  are  with 
the  people  as  against  all  encroachments  by  the  powers  that  govern. 
She  has  done  more  for  popular  liberty  than  all  the  institutions  on 
earth  combined,  than  all  the  statesmen  that  ever  lived,  than 
all  the  leaders  and  reformers  the  world  ever  saw.  Where  she  was 
absent,  blind  servility,  passive  obedience,  abject  slavery,  the  attend- 
ants of  ignorance  and  barbarism,  found  their  home.  Between  ab- 
solutism and  revolution  she  has  always  taken  her  stand  ;  and  con- 
sidering that  all  government  is  based  upon  a  tacit  agreement  between 
the  people  and  those  chosen  to  be  theii'  rulers,  she  has  even  sanc- 
tioned resistance  to  tyranny  within  certain  limits  as  the  right  of  the 
oppressed.  This  is  her  position,  and  such  it  always  will  be.  She  is 
truly  conservative.  Her  policy  and  her  teaching  are  as  distant  from 
absolutism  as  from  the  wild  and  frenzied  doctrines  of  revolution, 
anarchy,  and  chaos. 

Protestants  claimed  the  Reformation  as  a  source  of  personal 
liberty,  but  the  Reformation  preached  the  principle  of  passive 
obedience  and  the  divine  right  of  kings.  The  great  theologians  of 
the  Church  taught,  like  Thomas  Jefferson,  that  government  derives 
its  powers  from  the  consent  of  the  governed.  If  history  teaches  any 
lesson  it  is  this  :  that  where  the  Church  has  been  driven  out,  servi- 
tude has  stepped  in,  and  wherever  she  has  flourished  liberty  and 
civilization  have  found  an  unshaken  footing  and  unimpeded  prog- 
ress. Individuals  may  have  erred,  but  the  Church  is  not  respon- 
sible for  them.  It  was  not  the  Catholic,  but  the  Protestant  Church 
which  impei-illed  the  ancient  constitution  of  England  ;  who  taught 
that  the  queen  was  sacred,  and  held  that  the  despotic  will  of  an 
Elizabeth,  a  James,  or  a  Charles  was  the  will  of  God.  The  Catholic 
did  not  sanction  the  axiom.  Quod  placet  principi  habet  vigorem  legis. 
Her  conduct  at  no  stage  of  history  has  furnished  ground  for 
the  stale  charge  that  ultramontanism  and  absolutism  are  inseparable. 


136 

In  one  word,  her  teaching  is  that  of  her  greatest  theologian,  St 
Thomas  Aquinas. 

"  A  king,"  he  says,  "  who  is  unfaithful  to  his  duty,  forfeits  his 
claim  to  obedience.  It  is  not  rebellion  to  oppose  him,  for  he  is  him- 
self a  rebel,  whom  the  nation  has  a  right  to  put  down.  But  it  is 
better  to  abridge  his  power,  that  he  may  be  unable  to  abuse  it.  For 
this  purpose  the  whole  nation  ought  to  have  a  share  in  governing  it- 
self. The  constitution  ought  to  combine  a  limited  and  elective 
monarchy  with  an  aristocracy  of  merit  and  such  admixture  of  democ- 
racy as  shall  admit  all  classes  to  ofl&ce  by  popular  election.  No 
government  has  a  right  to  levy  taxes  beyond  the  limit  determined  by 
the  people.  All  political  authority  is  derived  from  popular  suffrage, 
and  all  laws  must  be  made  by  the  people  or  their  representatives. 
There  is  no  security  for  us  as  long  as  we  depend  on  the  will  of 
another  man." 

It  has  been  rightly  said  that  Christianity  in  the  secular  order  is 
republican.  It  upholds  the  doctrine  of  popular  liberty.  It 
proclaims  the  supremacy  of  the  people,  invests  them  with  the 
root  of  power  and  authority,  makes  them  the  foundation  of 
the  State,  and  opposes  Csesarism,  imperialism,  despotism,  and  all 
methods  of  government  which  do  not  harmonize  with  their  ex- 
pressed will,  or  seeks  unjustly  to  abridge  their  rights  and  liberties. 

I  have  said  that  popular  liberty  has  found  in  these  United  States 
its  grandest  realization.  But  the  old  spirit  of  Csesarism  is  not  dead. 
The  forces  of  centralization  are  still  at  work,  and  in  this  country  they 
are  nowhere  more  displayed  than  when  asserted  to  abridge  parental 
rights  and  control  absolutely  the  work  of  education. 


Chapter  II.— Parental  Rights. 

Education  supposes  authority.  Education  is  the  development  of 
the  faculties,  and  the  direction  of  the  destiny  of  man,  and  no  one 
may  assume  this  function  without  the  right,  and  there  is  no  right 
without  authority. 

This  authority  has,  from  the  very  morning-time  of  civilization, 
been  usurped  by  the  State  to  the  prejudice  of  the  parent  and  the 
injury  of   society.     In  most  governments,  both  ancient  and  modern. 


137 

socialistic  principles  of  the  most  advanced  order  have  been  upheld 
and  applied  to  the  work  of  education ;  and  whether  parents  were 
agreeable  or  not,  their  children  were  compelled  to  attend  schools  es- 
tablished by  the  State,  even  when  they  could  not  do  so  without 
lesion  to  their  consciences,  or  "when  they  deemed  such  schools  as 
patently  perversive  of  their  faith  or  morals.  All  such  governments, 
of  course,  either  explicitly  or  constructively,  act  upon  the  axiom  of 
Danton,  the  French  revolutionist:  "  Liberi  eraat  respublicae, priusquam 
erant  parentum" '.  children  belong  to  the  State  before  they  belong 
to  their  parents. 

Democracy,  taken  not  in  a  party,  but  in  a  broad  sense,  means  the 
minimum  of  government.  To  preserve  the  libertj^  of  the  individual 
and  maintain  the  authority  of  the  State,  each  in  its  fullness  and  per- 
fection, is  the  true  end  of  democracy.  Under  a  democratic  consti- 
tution, therefore,  the  State  has  no  right  to  restrict  the  liberty  of  the 
individual  beyond  those  limits  necessary  for  its  own  preservation 
and  continued  existence.  Upon  this  principle  the  State  has  no  right 
to  concern  itself  with  the  education  of  children,  save  in  so  far  as 
such  interference  is  essential  to  the  common  weal,  and  vital,  I  may 
say,  to  the  very  existence  of  society.  Obviously,  then,  the  State  has 
some  competence  in  the  matter,  and  there  are  some  rights  not  out- 
side her  just  province  in  respect  of  education.  To  deny  it  were  "  to 
bay  the  moon."  To  attempt  to  frustrate  it  were  vain  and  futile. 
We  cannot  recede  twenty  centuries,  nor  even  one.  The  State,  then, 
has  the  right  to  see  that  her  subjects  are  worthy  citizens  and  compe- 
tent voters.  This,  of  necessity,  implies  a  certain  measure  of  educa- 
tipn  and  intelligence.  These  truths  are  axiomatic,  but  are  frequently 
forgotten,  and  when  not  forgotten,  are  persistently  ignored.  And  I 
consider  that  Catholics,  whose  narrowness  of  view  did  not  enable 
them  to  perceive  them,  have,  so  far  from  helping,  seriously  crippled 
the  cause  for  which  in  all  honesty  and  earnestness  they  have  so  long 
contended. 

Let  us,  in  all  sincerity  of  purpose,  consider  the  question:  to 
whom  does  the  right  to  educate  belong  ?  I  take  it  here  as  an  ab- 
stract question,  without  special  reference  to  any  particular  govern- 
ment, though  later  on  I  shall  view  the  subject  in  relation  to  democ- 
racy, as  here  in  our  United  States  it  is  our  privilege  to  dwell  under 
the  greatest  democracy  that  has  yet  flourished  in  the  world. 


138 

To  disarm  prejudice  and  forestall  all  captiousness,  let  me  publish 
in  brief  the  platform  of  principles  on  which  I  stand: 

I  am  a  Catholic,  and  I  do  not  blush  to  own  it.  I  am  a  Catholic, 
and  to  be  one  is  my  glory  and  my  pride.  I  am  a  CathoHc,  and  I 
love  my  religion  and  my  Church,  and  believing,  as  I  do,  with  all  the 
powers  of  my  soul,  in  the  divine  authority  and  unerring  judgment 
of  that  Church  in  all  that  falls  within  the  domain  of  faith  and 
morals,  I  distinctly  repudiate  and  positively  abjure  whatever  maybe 
in  conflict  with  the  teachings  of  her  infallible  voice.  Besides,  if  no 
other  reason  impelled  me,  the  fact  that  the  temper  of  the  American 
people  is  so  abhorrent  to  hypocrisy,  and  so  intolerant  of  paltry 
minimizing,  would  constrain  me  to  utter  the  whole  truth,  and  noth- 
ing but  the  truth,  as  I  hold  fast  to  it  in  the  hope  of  my  salvation. 
If  the  American  mind  loves  anything,  it  is  honesty  and  fearlessness 
of  opinion ;  if  the  American  people  hate  any  coward,  it  is  the  pusil- 
lanimous temporizer  who  has  not  the  courage  of  his  convictions. 

But  I  am  also  an  American.  I  love  my  country  and  I  glory  in 
her  institutions.  I  hail  her  constitution  as  the  palladium  of  human 
liberty,  and  the  most  perfect  work  that  ever  came  from  the  hand  of 
man.  I  know  that  professions  of  ultra-patriotism  are  sometimes  de- 
servedly suspected,  but  I  must  say,  at  least,  that  second  only  to  the 
love  i  bear  my  God,  is  the  love  I  cherish  for  the  land  where  I  first 
beheld  the  living  light,  and  that  land  I  love  the  more  because  the 
starry  flag  of  freedom  flutters  in  the  heavens  above  it.  Yes;  I  am 
an  American,  and  I  have  no  sympathy  and  but  little  tolerance  for 
those  who,  of  whatever  nationality  they  may  be,  seeking  shelter  and 
firesides  upon  our  soil,  either  refuse  to  harmonize  with  our  ideas, 
adopt  our  customs,  learn  our  language,  or  will  not  in  any  right  sense 
fall  in  with  our  spirit,  conform  to  our  genius,  or  sail  along  the  broad, 
expansive  current  of  our  American  life.  Such  nonconformists 
should  have  remained  chained  to  their  idols  in  the  lands  from  which 
they  came.  I  assert  ihe  homogeneity  of  every  nation  as  the  very 
work  of  nature  and  of  God.  Those  who  oppose  it  are  marplots  of 
creation  and  deserve  contempt  from  men.  Those  who  do  not  like 
us,  neither  should  they  live  with  us.  They  are  amongst  us,  but  not 
of  us,  and  they  should  seek  a  more  congenial  clime. 

As  a  lover  of  American  liberty  and  American  institutions,  it  is 
alien  to  m}'  purpose  to  wage  war  upon  the  public  schools.     I  freely 


139 

and  even  gladly  hail  them,  in  one  sense,  as  a  boon.  The  experience 
of  the  people  of  England,  who  through  apathy,  as  Cardinal  Man- 
ning thinks,  suffered  millions  of  their  children  to  grow  up  like  the 
weeds  of  the  forest  without  the  simplest  rudiments  of  training  or 
cultivation,  a  menace  to  society,  a  disgrace  to  the  nation,  and  a  curse 
to  themselves,  should  not  be  lost  on  us.  The  most  strenuous  op- 
ponents of  State  education  cannot  blink  the  fact,  that  the  spontane- 
ous enterprise  of  individuals  can  never  succeed  in  making  educa- 
tion, as  it  should  be,  universal.  This  negligence  and  apathy  on  the 
part  of  parents  will  always  render  some  intervention  by  the  State  in 
educational  affairs  a  matter  of  necessity,  and  may  even  fully  justify 
the  establishment  of  a  public  school  system  by  civil  authority;  setting 
aside  consideration  of  the  vast  number  of  poor  childi'en  whom  pri- 
vate charity  is  either  unwilling  or  inadequate  to  assist,  and  for 
whom,  consequently,  public  provision  must  be  made  by  the  lawfully 
constituted  governmental  powers. 

Recognizing  this,  I  should  be  long  hesitant  to  impugn  the  right 
of  the  government  to  found  a  public  school  system  in  any  country 
in  which  all  the  children,  without  exception,  were  not  fully  and  en- 
tirely provided  for  by  the  zeal  and  liberality,  the  enterprise  and  ex- 
ertions of  the  individual  citizens  of  such  country.  And  this  is  im- 
possible. 

This  work,  however,  would  be  supplementary,  not  primary,  on  the 
part  of  the  State,  and  would  not,  by  any  means,  demonstrate  the 
native,  original,  and  underived  right  of  the  State  to  assume  of  itself, 
and  to  itself,  the  right  and  duty  of  the  education  of  its  citizens,  or 
future  citizens  in  its  children. 

Thus  much  said  to  clear  the  ground,  all  liability  of  misunderstand- 
ing is,  perhaps,  removed. 

To  whom  does  the  right  to  educate  belong  ? 

Manifestly,  there  are  but  three  parties  who  can  have  any  concern  in 
the  work  of  education,  and  these  are  the  parent,  the  Church,  and  the 
State.  We  shall  consider  the  rights  and  duties  of  each,  both  in 
themselves  and  relatively  to  one  another. 

Nature,  says  the  philosopher,  is  the  first  and  best  of  teachers.  She 
is  our  instructress  in  the  subject  of  our  p:|;'esent  investigations. 

The  first  cry  uttered  by  the  new-bom  babe  on  its  entrance  into 
life  is  one  of  helplessness  and  dependence,  and  the  first  articulate 


140 

speech  it  pronounces  is  addressed  to  its  natural  proteckor  as  it  learns 
to  lisp  father,  mother.  Here  nature's  instincts  talk  ;  here  the  voice 
of  nature  speaks — speaks  in  tones,  though  weak  and  tender,  yet  im- 
perious and  inexorable.  Where  does  it  pillow  its  tiny  head  for 
shelter  but  on  the  bosom  of  its  mother,  and  where  does  it  repose  with 
satisfied  security  but  in  the  strong  arms  of  its  father  ?  From  every 
other  breast  it  instinctively  turns  away,  and  from  every  other  em^ 
brace  it  timidly  shrinks  back  in  fear  which  long  familiarity  alone 
can  dissipate.  No  caress  can  soothe,  no  touch  can  calm,  no  hand 
can  heal,  no  embrace  can  warm,  no  voice  can  call  the  new-come  visit- 
ant to  earth  like  those  of  the  fond  authors  of  its  being,  after  the  God 
who  gave  them  their  sacred  holy  charge  in  the  person  of  their 
child. 

And  what  does  all  this  tell  ?  It  tells  of  a  law  that  is  all-pervading, 
irresistible,  and  inviolable.  It  proclaims  the  laws  of  nature,  extending 
through  the  boundless  realms  of  creation,  from  the  scintillating  atoms 
of  star-dust  in  the  pathway  of  the  planets  and  the  myriad  forms  of 
matter  in  the  vast  recesses  of  the  deep,  to  the  nobler  intellectual  and 
rational  existences  that  overspread  the  earth,  and  the  seraphic  intel- 
ligences that  glow  with  celestial  brightness  hard  by  the  throne  of 
God. 

In  obedience  to  this  law,  the  bright  sun  flings  his  golden  showers 
upon  the  ripening  grain  ;  the  moon  sheds  her  silvery  light  athwart 
the  mantle  of  the  night  ;  the  stars  sparkle  with  a  splendor  that 
atones  for  the  moon's  dechne  ;  the  planets  circle  in  ceaseless  harmony 
in  their  appointed  orbits  ;  the  sea  slumbers  in  the  mighty  cave  hol- 
lowed by  the  Creator's  hand  ;  and  the  earth  pours  forth  her  teeming 
fruits  in  rich  profusion  and  in  proper  season  for  the  use  and  nourish- 
ment of 'man. 

This  omnipresent  law  rises  higher,  and  transcending  the  physical 
domain,  it  reigns  with  equal  rigor  in  the  rational  and  moral  realms, 
and  regulates  and  governs  the  countless  multitudes  of  creatures, 
whose  reason  makes  them  cognizant  of  its  existence  in  the  pursuit  of 
their  appointed  ends.  This  is  the  law  which  has  its  seat  in  the  di- 
vine wisdom,  its  force  in  the  divine  power,  and  its  harmony  in  the 
whole  universe.  Shining  in  the  far-off  ocean  of  eternity,  its  light 
reaches  to  the  uttermost  bounds  of  time,  and  being  the  eternal  and 
unchangeable  law  in  God,  it  exists  in  rational  creatures  by  participa- 


141 

tion.  This  law  is  above  all  laws  ;  it  is  the  foundation  of  all  laws, 
whether  written  or  unwritten  ;  it  is  antecedent  to  all  states,  prior  to 
all  constitutions,  and  before  all  decrees  of  human  legislators.  It  was 
published  before  the  pandects  of  Justinian,  before  the  statutes  of 
Solon,  or  the  laws  of  Lycurgus,  and  it  had  been  fixed  in  the  human 
heai-t  by  the  finger  of  the  Almighty  even  before  the  Decalogue  was 
delivered  upon  the  flaming  mountain,  amid  the  thunder  and  the 
lightnings  of  the  Lord  God  of  Hosts.  And  this  law  is  inviolable. 
It  cannot  be  contravened  ;  it  cannot  be  contemned  ;  it  cannot  be  set 
aside  by  any  enactment  of  human  legislation  ;  and  whosoever  will  de- 
spise it  must  pay  those  sure  and  certain  penalties  which  nature  al- 
ways inflicts  upon  those  who  invade  her  holy  sanctuary. 

The  law  of  nature  confers  upon  the  parent  the  right  to  control  the 
education  of  his  child.  This  is  not  merely  a  right ;  it  is  also  a  duty  ; 
for  right  and  duty  are  correlative  terms.  It  is  the  bounden  duty  of 
the  parent  to  feed,  clothe,  and  educate  the  children  whom  Providence 
entrusts  to  their  cai-e. 

By  the  fact  of  generation,  or  procreation,  they  voluntarily  assume 
this  duty,  and  assume  it  so  completely  that  they  may  not  lay  it  down. 
The  fact  of  generation  begets  the  first  obligation  oh  the  parent  to 
provide  aU  that  is  essential  for  the  well-being  of  his  child's  existence, 
both  in  the  physical  and  the  spiritual  order.  The  parent  is  respon- 
sible for  the  child's  existence  in  this  world.  He  is,  in  one  sense,  its 
creator ;  its  creator  in  the  order  of  secondaiy  causes.  To  whom 
would  the  child  look  for  sustenance  but  to  him  who  gave  it  being 
after  God? 

Upon  parents,  therefore,  before  either  Church  or  State,  is  incum- 
bent the  duty  and  the  obligation  of  the  education  of  their  children  ; 
in  this  sense,  that  if  the  Church  and  State  never  existed  parents 
could  not  suffer  their  offspring  to  grow  up  in  deprivation  of  things 
essential  to  temporal  felicity,  nor  in  ignorance  of  truths  necessary  to 
their  eternal  happiness  and  the  end  of  their  creation.  For  if  the 
parent  would  not  be  bound  to  this  duty,  could  anybody  else  be 
named  upon  whom  that  duty  would  devolve  ?     Assuredly  not. 

The  first  and  the  chief,  as  it  is  the  highest  and  holiest  obligation 
of  parents,  is  the  education  of  their  children  ;  and  it  is  an  obligation 
which  they  cannot  evade,  ignore,  or  despise.  Nay,  they  are  invested 
with  the  God-given  right  of  forcing  or  constraining  their  children. 


142 

when  necessary,  to  learn  what  is  needful  for  the  fulfillment  of  their 
duties  in  life,  especially  as  these  concern  the  God  who  made  them  ; 
of  compelling-  them  to  attend  schools  appointed  for  such  instruction, 
and  of  inflicting  upon  them  adequate  and  proper  punishment  for 
disobedience  and  neglect  in  complying  with  their  parents'  commands 
in  this  important  matter.  It  ensues,  by  logical  necessity,  that 
parents  have  the  right  of  absolutely  excluding  all  others  from  the 
work  of  moulding  their  children  by  education  ;  all,  besides,  who 
would  impede  or  interfere  with  their  own  labors  in  the  training  of 
theu'  offspring,  either  by  the  employment  of  some  distasteful 
method,  the  inculcation  of  doubtful  or  pernicious  doctrine,  or  the 
mediation  of  objectionable  tutors,  or  hj  any  other  means  seeming 
dangerous  or  unreasonable  to  the  parents  of  the  children  ;  for  on 
any  other  supposition  the  parents'  rights  would  be  vain  and  illusory. 

The  parental  right  of  education,  as  founded  in  the  law  of  nature, 
is  inalienable.  It  cannot  be  abdicated  or  abjured.  It  cannot  be 
transferred,  though  it  may  be  deputed  to  be  exercised  by  others, 
but  only  as  the  agents  and  representatives  of  the  parents,  who  still 
retain  the  scope  of  supervision,  and  the  authority  delegated  is 
cancelled  at  recall. 

Parents  may  provide  education  themselves  directly,  together  with 
the  Church,  and  dependently  upon  it,  or  they  may  delegate  this  duty 
to  others,  even  under  certain  circumstances  to  the  public  schools  ; 
provided,  however,  they  have  clear  certainty  that  such  schools  are 
noxious  neither  to  faith  nor  morals,  for  they  are,  before  all  else,  bound 
by  the  most  stringent  obligations  to  ground  their  children  in  the 
true  religion  and  in  sound  morality,  and  to  employ  the  utmost 
vigilance  that  those  children  be  widely  separated  from  the  danger  of 
corruption  to  either.  If,  however,  sage  experience  and.  ripe  investi- 
gation declare  that  the  State  or  common  schools  are  not  of  such 
character,  or  if  they  are  of  even  doubtful  expediency  as  educators, 
parents  would  not  be  excused  from  culpability  by  the  law  of  God  in 
sending  their  offspring  thereunto,  even  if  the  civil  authorities  mulcted 
them  by  fines,  or  punished  them  by  imprisonment  for  failure  to  com- 
ply with  the  demands  made  by  the  State  through  compulsory  educa- 
tion laws,  or  other  means  of  constraint. 

That  children  belong  to  their  parents,  and  that,  by  the  law  of 
nature,  parents  have  the  right  of  guardianship  and  control  over  their 


143 

offspring,  is  clearly  recognized  and  cogently  defended  by  the  ablest 
and  most  respected  writers  on  jurisprudence,  and  by  all  eminent 
authorities,  whether  in  canon  or  civil  law.  For  although  they  vindi- 
cate for  a  sovereign  State  the  broadest  rights  regardmg  laws  of 
personal  capacity  and  duty,  as  they  are  called,  clsiiming  for  a  State 
over  its  own  citizens  complete  and  irresistible  jurisdiction  with  respect 
to  the  qualities  of  citizenship,  minority,  and  majority  (thus  fixing 
the  time  when  the  child  is  civilly  emancipated  from  its  parents), 
legitimacy  and  illegitimacy,  propei-ty,  contracts,  idiocy,  lunacy,  and, 
alas !  we  know,  even  marriage  and  divorce  ;  although  asserting  f  uU 
and  sovereign  power  over  so  many  personal  conditions  and  capacities, 
no  respectable  authority  ventured  so  far  as  to  set  up  the  novel  and 
commtmistic  theory  that  it  was  not  the  parents  of  the  children,  but 
the  State,  who  was  engaged  by  the  law  of  nature  to  feed,  clothe, 
and  educate  them. 

Sir  William  Blackstone  affirms,  that  the  last  duty  of  parents  to  their 
children  is  that  of  giving  them  an  education  suitable  to  their  station 
in  life  ;  a  duty  pointed  out  by  reason,  and  of  far  the  greatest 
impoi-tance  of  any.  "  For,"  says  he,  "  it  is  not  easy  to  imagine  or 
allow  that  a  parent  has  conferred  any  considerable  benefit  upon  his 
child  by  bringing  him  into  the  world,  if  he  afterwards  entirely 
neglect  his  culture  and  education,  and  suffers  him  to  grow  up  like  a 
mere  beast,  to  lead  a  life  useless  to  others  and  shameful  to  him- 
self." 

Dr.  Wayland,  a  powerful  name  among  American  scholars, 
declares  that  "  the  duty  of  both  parents  is  generally  to  educate  or 
bring  up  their  children  in  such  manner  as  they  believe  will  be  most 
advantageous  for  their  future  happiness,  both  temporal  and  eternal." 
The  parent  *'  is  bound  to  inform  himself  of  the  peculiar  habits  and 
reflect  upon  the  probable  future  situation  of  his  child,  and  deliber- 
ately to  consider  what  sort  of  education  will  most  conduce  to  his 
future  happiness  and  welfare.  The  duties  of  a  parent  are  established 
by  God,  and  God  requires  us  not  to  violate  them."  Chancellor 
Kent  says  :  "  The  duties  of  parents  to  their  children,  as  being  their 
natural  guardians,  consist  in  maintaining  and  educating  them  during 
their  season  of  infancy  and  youth."  All  the  canonists  of  the  Church 
have  affirmed  unanimously  the  same  doctrine,  and  of  these  one  so 
eminent  as  Bouvier  saj^s  :    "  The  principal   obligation   of   parents 


144 

towards  their  children  are  their  maintenance,  their  protection,  and 
their  education." 

The  Church  herself  has  invariably  proclaimed  and  vindicated  the 
parental  right.  When  it  was  surrei)titiously  sought  to  take  forcibly 
the  infants  of  Jewish  and  Mohammedan  parents  to  be  baptized  and 
educated  in  the  Catholic  Church,  the  furious  zealots  who  attempted 
it  were  reprimanded  for  their  bigotry,  and  the  great  Thomas  Aquinas 
sounded  the  solemn  warning  by  his  affirmation  that  their  conduct 
was  repugnant  to  natural  justice,  nature  having  made  the  child  the 
property  of  the  parent,  the  author  of  its  being,  to  whom  alone  it 
belonged ;  and  the  child  should  remain  under  the  control  and 
custody  of  its  parents  until  it  became  sui  juris,  possessed  of  the  use 
of  reason,  and  then  it  was  led  into  the  Church,  not  by  force  or 
coercion,  but  by  persuasion  and  conviction. 

But  to  whomsoever  parents  may  confide  the  education  of  their 
children,  the  inherent  and  inalienable  duty  imposed  upon  them  by 
the  law  of  nature,  demands  that  the  most  substantial  and  most  essen- 
tial part  of  the  training  shall  be  done  by  themselves.  They  are  the 
natural  educators  of  their  children.  They  are  divinely-appointed 
pedagogues.  They  are  heaven's  own  teachers,  and  they  carry  their 
credentials  from  the  very  hand  of  God.  In  their  room  no  one  can 
adequately  stand.  That  smiling  train  of  virtues,  which  casts  a  halo 
about  the  brow  of  childhood,  and  imparts  to  it  an  unspeakable  grace 
and  charm,  can  be  instilled  into  the  heart  by  those  alone  whom  na- 
ture has  qualified  for  the  exalted  task,  and  whom  God  Himself  has 
gifted  with  talents  which  ai-t  cannot  supply  and  cannot  successfully 
imitate. 

To  form  them  for  their  sublime  function,  nature  has  made  elabo- 
rate preparation,  and  equipped  them  with  a  splendid  outfit.  They 
have  been  invested  with  an  authority  which  is  all  but  sacred,  and 
which  the  child  learns  to  recognize  and  respect  with  the  first  dawn- 
ing of  intelligence.  Into  the  very  fibres  of  their  being,  and  the  very 
marrow  of  their  hearts,  the  Creator  has  infused  that  parental  in- 
stinct of  love  and  affection  whose  bonds  are  as  unbreakable  as 
adamant,  as  enduring  as  the  decrees  that  issue  from  the  councils  of 
eteraity.  It  seems  to  have  pleased  the  all-wise  and  beneficent  Author 
of  our  being  to  have  provided  parents  who  are  formed  for  a  re- 
sponsibility  so  high  as  the  rearing  of  children,  and  upon  whom, 


145 

without  exaggeration,  it  may  be  said  so  many  souls  depend  for 
their  salvation,  because  they  are  the  real  guides  of  their  destiny, 
with  a  warm,  intense,  and  absorbing  affection  for  those  committed 
to  their  especial  care.  Therefore,  they  stand  to  them  in  the  place 
of  God;  they  are  clothed,  as  a  certain  holy  father  has  said,  with  the 
power  and  authority  and  the  love  of  God,  and  are  a  kind  of  second- 
ary providence  to  their  children.  Ah !  what  greater  honor  can 
human  beings  claim  than  to  bring  up  sons  and  daughters  to  the  God 
who  gave  them  this  vicarious  office  ?  And  how  should  they  not  fur- 
nish themsel  ves  for  their  lofty  mission  ? 

The  elements  of  all  that  is  gi-eat  and  good  are  entrusted  to  the 
moulding  hand  of  maternal  skill,  and  awful  responsibiUties  are  im- 
plied in  the  sacred  trust.  But  the  promise  of  the  blessing  is  award- 
ed to  loving  fidelity.  O !  mother,  why  has  God  thus  gifted  you 
with  such  undying  love  for  the  offspring  of  your  womb  ?     Truly, 

"There  is  none. 
In  all  this  cold  and  hollow  world,  no  fount. 
Of  deep,  strong,  deathless  love,  save  that  within 
A  mother's  heart." 

And,  heaven  be  praised,  most  mothers  are  sensible  of  their  solemn 
duty.  Who  has  not  seen  the  accomplished  and  fine-wrotght  lady, 
who  has  surrendered  early  affluence,  aU  accustomed  comforts,  the 
pleasures  of  society,  the  indulgence  of  refined  taste,  and  become  a 
menial,  as  well  as  a  mother  to  her  children,  and  entered  into  all  the 
arduous  labors  of  the  nursery,  the  perplexing  and  harassing  details  of 
minute  daily  economy,  and  the  innumerable  pangs  and  Jieartaches 
of  bearing  and  rearing  children,  not  with  sullen  submission,  but 
with  cheei-ful,  joyful,  active  interest,  and  sweet  and  ever-present 
sympathy  ? 

How  noble  and  how  sacred  the  love  of  woman,  when  strengthened 
by  the  bonds  of  duty  and  the  ties  of  nature  !  Who  would  not  be  a 
mother,  to  reign  in  her  imperial  realm  ?  Other  subjects  are  ruled  by 
the  sceptre  ;  hers  are  controlled  by  the  eye  and  held  by  the  magnet- 
ism of  the  heart.  Elsewhere  is  heard  the  sound  of  arms  ;  by  her 
fireside  the  voice  of  peace.  Elsewhere  men  are  ruled  by  the  rod  of 
iron  ;  with  her,  by  the  wand  of  affection  and  the  mace  of  love.  Is 
there  a  sacred  spot  on  earth  hallowed  by  angels'  footsteps,  and 
10 


146 

guarded  by  seraphs*  care  ?  It  is  by  the  child's  httle  cradle,  at  the 
silent  and  pensive  hour  of  eve,  when  the  mother  folds  its  tiny  hands 
in  slumber,  and  kneeling  down,  so  hushed  and  still,  lifts  her  tender, 
loving  gaze  to  heaven,  imploring  future  blessings  on  its  head.  Hark 
to  the  angels'  whisper  ;  see  the  light  of  God  overhead  !  Show  me 
the  hand  that  sways  empires,  and  you  will  show  me  the  mother's 
hand.  Show  me  the  throne  that  rules  all  other  thrones,  and  you 
will  show  me  the  mother's  throne  in  the  nursery.  If  there  be  any- 
thing in  this  weary  world,  that,  before  all  else,  comes  near  the 
'*  unsearchable  riches  of  God,"  it  is  the  fountain  of  a  mother's  love, 
a  mother's  care,  ever  springing  up,  like  a  well  of  living  water,  in  the 
arid  desert  of  human  life  To  smooth  the  couch  of  her  suffering  off- 
spring ;  to  lull  him  to  his  slumber  ;  to  fan  his  fevered  brow,  and 
wipe  his  tear-dimmed  eye  ;  to  catch  his  faintest  whisper,  and  heed 
his  oft-poured  plaints  ;  to  hear  his  wayward  cries,  and  stand  by, 
through  the  toils  of  the  day  and  the  sorrows  of  the  night,  with 
patient,  vigilant,  and  never-wearied  love,  this  is  the  divine  duty 
which  is  inseparably  associated  with  the  functions  of  the  mother. 
And  what  can  kind  sympathy  say,  what  can  feeble  friendship  do  to 
assuage  the  cold  and  wintry  grief  of  that  bleeding  breast,  when 
death  has  blurred  the  glossy  tincture  of  the  skin,  and  sucked  away 
life's  honey  from  the  lips  of  affection's  fondest  darling?  AVith 
stricken  heart  and  aching  brow  she  sits  by  beauty's  bed  with  air 
distraught,  and  wild  and  wandering  gaze  ;  or  with  burning  tears  of 
heart- wrung,  hopeless  anguish,  she  lays  her  first  born  in  the  cold  and 

silent  tomb. 

"The  very  first 
*     Of  human  life  must  spring  from  woman's  breast, 
Your  first  small  words  be  taught  you  from  her  lips, 
Your  first  tears  quenched  by  her,  and  your  last  sighs 
Full  often  breathed  out  in  a  woman's  hearing. " 

I  thank  God  for  my  mother;  I  thank  Him  ten  thousand  times,  for 
of  her  I  can  say,  as  Bishop  Hall  of  his  :  "  Never  have  any  lips  read  to 
me  such  feeling  lectures  of  piety,  neither  have  I  known  any  soul  that 
more  accurately  practised  them  than  her  own." 

To  qualify  parents  entirely  for  their  laborious  duty,  God  has 
not  only  implanted  in  their  breasts  this  ineradicable  love  of  progeny, 
but  He  has  also  filled  the  hearts  of  children  with  all  those  tender 


147 

sentiments  and  feelings  which  flow  from  filiation.  The  reciprocal 
love  begotten  by  paternity  is,  perhajDS,  stronger  in  the  heart  of  the 
child  than  in  that  of  the  person  who  claims  its  fatherhood.  All  will 
not  concur  in  this. 

That  their  childish  affections  might  have  full  play,  their  Maker 
has  created  them  ardent  and  impressionable,  given  them  quick  in- 
tuitions, lively  perceptions,  and  a  swift  sense  of  recognition  for 
favors  received. 

They  are  confiding,  kind  and  tender,  and  instinctively  tenacious  of 
remembrance  as  to  the  faces  of  their  friends.  But  father  and  mother 
are  to  them  the  first  and  best  of  friends.  Identity  of  blood  seems 
to  generate  a  cordial  correspondence  of  the  instincts  and  affections, 
which  distance  even,  will  not  dim,  and  supreme  depravity  alone  can 
disturb.  Even  when  the  corroding  touch  of  time,  which  sometimes 
severs  friendship's  strongest  links,  has  had  the  chance  to  tarnish  the 
filial  relation  with  the  rust  of  cold  susi)icion,  or  neglect,  or  distemper, 
the  filial  instinct  is  not  dead,  but  dormant;  and  so  soon  as  the  first 
fire  of  reawakened  love  flames  forth,  the  bonds  are  welded  together 
again,  perhaps  never  to  be  strained  or  parted.  No  matter  if  a  man 
has  crimsoned  his  career  with  crime  ;  no  matter  how  callous  and 
soul-hardened  he  may  have  become;  no  matter  if  he  has  been  cruel, 
ungrateful,  and  unkind  to  them  that  brought  him  into  being,  still 
nature  will  return,  and  some  day  when  he  least  looks  for  it,  the  glow 
of  gratitude,  so  long  slumbering,  will  light  up  the  breast  that  had 
been' sealed  against  the  feehngs  which  fihal  affection  and  consan- 
guineous relationship  inspire.  But  with  the  very  young — the 
children — there  is  no  time,  as  yet,  for  "fond  love  to  grow  cool." 
Their  artless  innocence,  their  childish  glee,  their  merry  laughter, 
their  frank,  cordial,  and  winning  ways,  their  care-free  brow,  their 
lily-like  purity,  their  love,  their  reverence,  and  docility — all  pro- 
claim, with  nature's  own  sweet  voice,  that  childhood  is  the  season  of 
culture,  the  time  "  To  pour  the  fresh  instruction  o'er  the  mind,"  and 
the  family  roof -tree  is  the  school  which  God  has  given  unto  children. 

Yes;  if  there  is  a  spot  of  hving  green  in  the  cheerless  desolation 
of  this  fallen  world,  it  is  in  the  garden  of  the  family,  from  whose 
gushing  fountain  the  clear  and  crystal  waters  of  the  great,  run- 
ning river  of  society,  take  their  course, — their  course  for  devastation 
or  regeneration  in  the  world.     Fathers  and  mothers,  you  are  the 


148 

units  of  the  family,  and  the  family  is  the  unit  of  society.  You  are 
the  artificers  of  the  social  fabric,  and  as  you  build  it,  it  shall  stand 
or  fall.  It  is  your  high  and  responsible  province  to  instillinto  the 
minds  of  children  the  earliest  of  their  sentiments,  to  form  the  first 
of  their  impressions,  and  to  be  the  pattern  on  whose  example  their 
eye  of  observation  rests, — rests  earliest  in  the  morning,  constantly 
through  the  day,  latest  at  the  night.  Let  me  tell  you,  more  than  human 
acquisitions,  more  than  worldly  wisdom,  is  required  to  fulfill  your 
heaven-given  duty,  and  discharge  your  holy  trust.  Remember,  the 
family  is  the  school  of  Christ.  Has  He  not  made  it  His?  Did  He 
not  go  down  to  Nazareth  and  stay  subject  to  His  parents  for  the 
best  part  of  His  life?  In  that  humble  home  among  the  hills,  were 
not  His  own  parents  His  teachers  by  His  own  choice,  preferably  to 
the  greatest  doctors  in  Israel,  and  the  learned  in  the  law  ? 

Not  only  has  God  given  to  parents  an  indelible  and  indestructible 
affection  for  their  young,  but  He  has,  moreover,  sanctified  the  mar- 
riage relation,  raised  it  to  the  lofty  plane  of  the  supernatural,  that 
they  might  adequately  perform  the  duties  of  their  station.  Thus 
marriage  has  become  a  holy  mystery,  "  a  great  sacrament,"  an  in- 
dissoluble and  a  supernatural  contract,  ratified  by  God  in  heaven, 
in  the  presence  of  the  holy  angels.  Verily,  '*  matches  are  made 
in  heaven"  Its  end  is  likewise  supernatural.  Its  object  is  not 
merely,  as  Mr.  Macqueary  thinks,  to  raise  up  citizens  for  the  State, 
but  for  that  "home  eternal  in  the  heavens;  that  house  not  made  by 
hands."  "We  have  not  here  a  lasting  city,  but  look  forward  to* that 
which  is  to  come."  We  are  only  a  distant  colony,  spending  our  pro- 
bation and  preparing  for  our  entrance  into  a  celestial  empire  where 
an  abundant  welcome  shall  await  us  through  the  tender  mercy  of 
Him  who  placed  us  in  the  land  of  exile,  so  far  from  our  native 
country,  our  true  and  only  home. 

The  family  was  instituted  by  God  Himself  at  the  creation,  for  the 
extension  of  the  race,  but  the  family  bond  was  sanctified,  and  mar- 
riage invested  with  the  transcendent  dignity  of  a  sacrament,  by  the 
hand  of  Jesus  Christ,  for  the  perpetuation  of  our  divine  Redeemer's 
kingdom.  The  end  must  be  sought  by  rightly  appointed  means. 
As  the  end  of  marriage  is  supernatural,  in  that  its  design  is  to  build 
up  God's  everlasting  kingdom,  and  "  purify  unto  Christ  a  holy  and 
acceptable  people,"  to  its  reception  are  annexed  those  supernatural 


149 

helps  and  graces  which  habihtate  parents  for  the  close  and  intimate 
share  that  falls  within  th^ir  competence  in  this  heavenly  employ- 
ment. And  well  may  they  heed  how  they  acquit  themselves  of  this 
sublime  function.  Let  them  beware  of  that  parental  inconsistency 
displayed  by  those  who  ai-e  "wiser  in  their  generation  than  the 
children  of  Hght";  that  inconsistency  which  "busies  itself  about 
many  things,"  but  neglects  "the  one  thing  necessary";  that  incon- 
sistency which  studies  much,  and  plans  often,  and  labors  long  to  lay 
up  a  perishable  inheritance  for  those  who  are  coming  into  life,  but 
is  so  self-deluded  as  to  fail  to  look  forward  in  prospect  to  a  heritage 
which  should  be  the  object  of  supreme  concern  and  unvarying  en- 
deavor, because  treasured  in  a  kingdom  where  "  no  moth  doth  con- 
sume, no  rust  devour,  and  no  thief  doth  ever  enter  to  steal  away." 
Blinded  parents,  they  are  cruelly  deceived  and ,  cheated  in  the  end. 
They  pursue  their  favorite  phantoms,  castle-building  for  their 
children  in  the  vales  of  dreamland,  "  giving  to  airy  nothing  a  local 
habitation  and  a  name,"  frittering  their  time  away  in  "  dropping 
buckets  into  empty  wells,  and  growing  old  in  drawing  nothing  up." 
But  stern  will  be  their  awaking,  and  rude  and  rough  the  shock.  Is 
this  parental  love  ? 

The  highest  love  of  which  one  creature  is  capable  towards  another, 
is  that  benevolent  regard  which  has  respect  to  the  eternal  and  lasting 
good  of  one's  fellow-being.  The  human  child  is  burdened  with  a 
body,  but  within  that  frail  body  and  clay  tenement  there  dwells  a 
vital  spark  from  heaven  called  a  soul  : — a  soul  fashioned  in  a  godly 
mould,  and  destined  for  an  immortal  existence  in  realms  of  ever- 
lastiug  light.  There  is  the  golden  goal  of  its  existence  ;  the  true 
term  of  its  desires  ;  the  object  of  its  sovereign  felicity.  In  the  whole 
range  of  visible  creation  it  beholds  nothing  equal  to  itself  in  dignity 
and  worth  ;  nothing  that  can  make  it  blessed  and  happy  ;  nothing 
that  can  satisfy  its  quenchless  aspirations  for  a  beauty  that  never 
fades,  a  felicity  that  never  cloys,  and  a  joy  that  never  dies,  but  like 
a  flower  of  amaranthine  bloom,  preserves  the  perfume  of  its  im- 
mortal essence  untouched  by  the  effacing  fingers  of  decay.  This  im- 
perishable soul,  the  pearl  beyond  price,  this  jasper  gem  of  paradise, 
has  been  committed  to  parental  care.  And  natural  affection  which 
takes  not  so  high  a  range  ;  which  strains  every  nerve  to  secure  cor- 
poreal wants,  and  leaves  the  spiritual  unprovided  ;  which  has  much 


150 

concern  for  time,  and  but  little  for  eternity,  is  a  bane  but  not  a  bless- 
ing ;  a  curse  but  not  a  comfort  to  the  unhappy  victims  of  its  mis- 
directed and  calamitous  control.  Genuine  affection  is  concerned 
with  man,  not  so  much  as  to  his  animal  as  to  his  rational  and  im- 
mortal part,  and  since  true  love  is  not  operose  but  active — kindling 
into  deeds — it  excites  to  unremitting  efforts  to  discover  what  will 
promote,  and  remove  what  will  retard  the  welfare  of  the  object  of  its 
exercise,  as  an  inhabitant  of  eternity  and  a  child  of  God. 

Of  this  exalted  love  a  true  Christian  alone  is  capable.  Can  a 
woman  be  a  mother, 'then,  and  not  a  Christian?  Can  she  have  chil- 
dren, and  while  pampering  their  bodies,  which  must  wither,  neglect 
the  souls,  which  will  live  for  ages,  and  will  never  die?  Can  she 
bring  up  children  and  not  train  them  for  virtue  and  for  God  ?  If 
she  can,  then  she  '*  hath  not  the  care  of  her  own,"  and  is  worse  than 
a  pagan.  If  she  can,  she  is  not  a  mother,  but  a  monster  ;  she  is  the 
handmaid  of  the  Evil  One,  and  she  calls  up  sons,  but  they  are  the 
spawn  of  perdition  and  the  inheritors  of  hell. 

But  if  she  is,  as  I  fondly  trust,  a  Christian  mother,  she  will  confer 
upon  her  offspring  the  inestimable  boon  of  a  Christian  education. 
She  will  train  them  when  young,  in  the  way  they  should  go,  that 
when  they  are  old,  they  may  not  depart  therefrom.  By  example,  no 
less  than  precept,  she  will  guide  their  footsteps  in  the  road  of  recti- 
tude, and  along  the  paths  that  lead  to  peace.  She  will  talk  to  them 
of  heaven  and  the  glory  that  awaits  them  there.  She  will  converse 
with  them  of  God  and  of  His  holiness,  His  beauty,  and  His  truth. 
The  annals  of  salvation  she  will  open  to  their  fresh,  receptive  minds, 
and  will  declare  unto  them  the  short  and  simple  story  of  Him  who 
came  to  heal,  to  help,  and  to  save.  Her  tears  will  save  where  her 
teachings  fail,  and  should  they  stray  from  the  way  she  walks  to  lead 
them,  she  will  call  them  back  to  peace  and  to  conscience  by  her 
prayers  with  them  and  for  them. 

This  is  education  in  its  elevated  sense.  This  is  instruction  unto 
life,  for  to  be  well-informed  is  not  always  to  be  well-educated.  A 
man  may  be  a  scholar  and  yet  lose  his  soul.  "  Better  is  the  humble 
rustic  that  feareth  God  than  the  proud  philosopher  who,  neglecting 
himself,  considereth  the  course  of  the  heavens." 

And  where  is  this  education  to  be  imparted?  By  whom  shall  it 
be  taught  ?    By  the  State  ?    Has  the  State  the  instincts,  the  feelings, 


151 

the  love  of  tlie  parent  ?  The  State  never  made  her  lap  the  pillow  of 
infancy,  and  soothed  the  babe  to  his  rosy  rest.  Will  the  State  pray 
for  them  ?  The  State  says  no  prayers,  the  State  sheds  no  tears,  the 
State  has  no  heart  ;  nay,  the  State  has  no  soul,  for  it  is  a  great 
corporation,  and  corporations  have,  as  we  are  told,  no  souls. 
Alas !  the  State  hardly  knows  a  God  ;  or  at  least  whether  it  does  or 
not,  is  a  question  of  dispute  among  the  doctors.  How,  then,  can  it 
talk  of  God,  how  can  it  teach  religion  ?  Religion  is  not  its  office, 
anyway  ;  soul-saving  is  not  its  function  ;  it  regards  -man's  body, 
but  cannot  chain  his  soul,  and,  after  all,  it  seems  far  better  that  it 
should  limit  its  jurisdiction  to  the  planet  we  now  dwell  upon.  In 
State  schools,  then,  shall  this  education  be  given  ?  They  are  what 
the  State  makes  them,  secular,  singular,  never  soul- satisfying.  The 
stream  is  not  purer  than  its  source,  and  light  is  not  brighter  than 
the  sun.  A  million  negatives  make  no  affirmative.  God  absent  is 
never  God  present,  and  irreligion  cannot  make  religion.  Granted, 
however,  that  the  State  has  constructed  a  system  that  approaches 
perfection  ;  granted  that  the  State  can-  and  does  teach  religion  ; 
granted  that  the  State  having  annihilated  the  impossible,  has  con- 
trived h  religion  so  colorless,  so  innocent  of  creeds,  that  all  might 
regard  it  available  without  compounding  with  conscience,  or  palter- 
ing with  principle  :  still  the  State  lacks  adequate  authority,  is  in- 
competent to  fill  the  place  of  the  parent,  or  supply  the  unpurchas- 
able  influence  and  inimitable  character  of  the  home. 

Home  is  the  school  of  nature  and  the  gymnasium  of  God.  The 
influence  of  a  gracious  home  begins  with  the  birth,  and  ends  only 
with  the  death  of  the  pupils  it  prepares  for  the  arena  of  life.  Man 
may  live  to  the  age  of  Mathusala,  but  he  will  never  outgrow  the 
lights  and  shadows  of  his  early  home.  The  influence  of  the  home 
outreaches,  overlies,  and  undergirds  all  other  influence  whatsoever. 
It  is  no  torture  to  truth  to  take  man  for  what  his  home  may  be. 

Home!  it  is  a  hallowed  name.  May  its  memory  flourish  im- 
mortally. Expunge  that  word  from  the  vocabulary,  and  civilization 
crumbles  into  chaos.  Uproot  that  word  from  the  language,  and  life 
loses  all  of  its  savor;  there  is  no  longer  any  sanctuary  for  the  soul; 
existence  robbed  of  its  sweetness  is  crowned  with  calamity  and 
death,  or  oblivion,  a  much-desired  deliverer.  Home !  it  has  an  an- 
gelic sound  like  music's  witching  melody  when  attuned  to  heaven's 


152 

own  harmon3%  Home !  why,  heaven  were  far  less  sweet  if,  when  this 
our  exile  ended,  we  could  not  hail  it  as  our  home.  And  if  there  is 
aught  of  heaven  on  earth,  that  spot  is  surely  home.  Our  childhood's 
home !  how  happy  !  Long  years  have  ebbed  and  flowed  since  we 
stood  upon  the  threshold  of  its  door. 

"  A  wiser  head  we  have,  we  know, 
Thau  when  we  loitered  there, 
But  in  our  wisdom  there  is  woe, 
And  in  our  knowledge  care." 

Yes;  the  years  have  come  and  gone;  some  gliding  by  on  joy's  fairy 
footsteps;  some  plodding  past  with  the  snail-like  speed  of  grief; 
but  out  of  the  tempest  of  our  sorrows,  and  through  the  rainbow  of 
our  joys,  luminous  as  the  star  of  morning,  shone  the  radiant  recol- 
lection of  peace  and  happiness,  untasted  since  the  time  we  stood  be- 
neath the  sheltering  shadow  of  that  dear  old  home. 

'*  There  blend  the  ties  that  strengthen 

Our  hearts  in  hours  of  grief, 
The  silver  links  that  lengthen 

Joy's  visits  when  most  brief; 
There  eyes  in  all  their  splendor 

Are  vocal  to  the  heart. 
And  glances,  gay  and  tender. 

Fresh  eloquence  impart: 
Then,  dost  thou  sigh  for  pleasure, 

Oh  !  do  not  widely  roam. 
But  seek  the  hidden  treasure 
*  At  home  !  dear  home  ! " 

And  thus  memory  pictures  now  the  past.  May  God  always  keep 
that  memory  green.  May  the  remembrance  of  home  abide  with  us 
until  the  final  sigh  shall  call  us  to  another  and  a  better.  The  vision 
of  that  old  home  is  spread  before  us  now.  Around  the  latticed 
porch  the  morning-glory  twines,  and  amid  the  woodbine  cups  the 
honey-makers  hum  their  sibilant  song.  The  fragrant  odor  of  the 
flowering  trees  still  scents  the  vernal  air,  and  the  warm  breezes 
bring  showering  blossoms  down  perfuming  the  soil  with  sweetness. 
The  purling  of  the  garden-bordering  brook  is  heard  pouring  music 
on  the  pebbles,  and  in  the  pastures  sound  the  tinkling  bells,  as  the 
lowing  cattle  come  to  share  their  evening  meal.     Near  the  cottage 


153 

door  stands  the  cradle  where  slumbering  innocence  lies  in  dreamless 
repose,  and  upon  that  maternal  brow  bent  over  it  is  seen  the  glow 
of  pure  affection,  and  in  those  earnest,  watchful  eyes,  the  soft  and 
tender  light  of  holy  love — love  stronger  far  than  death  which  it 
would  dare  to  brave  for  the  Httle  life  within  that  crib  before  the 
door. 

Tell  me,  ye  worldly-wise — sages,  philosophers,  and  statesmen, 
whose  fine-spun  theories  are  formed  for  the  regeneration  of  human- 
ity and  the  amelioration  of  the  race,  are  ye  minded  to  efface  the  in- 
fluence of  home  and  blot  it  out  forever  ?  Do  you  dream,  in  the  in- 
finite bounds  of  your  own  silliness,  that  you  can  make  the  State,  the 
father,  the  family,  and  the  home  ?  Can  the  leopard  change  his 
spots  and  the  blackamoor  grow  white  ?  Nothing  gives  what  it  has 
not  got,  and  the  State  is  but  the  State  and  nothing  more.  The 
devil,  ages  ago,  marshalled  all  his  forces  in  a  flank  movement  against 
the  home,  and  now  you  rally  to  his  aid.  To  this  end  you  invade 
the  sanctuaiy  of  the  home  with  meddlesome  marriage  laws,  and 
corrupting  divorct  laws,  and  unjust,  unnatural  laws  which  assail  the 
sanctity  of  the  home,  stab  parental  influence,  and  break  the  back- 
bone of  parental  authority,  by  removing  parents  from  the  education 
and  control  of  those  children,  concerning  whom  God  will  demand, 
not  from  you,  but  from  them,  a  rigorous  account  upon  the  judgment 
day. 

But,  alas  !  and  again  alas !  the  individual  daily  languishes,  and 
the  State  grows.  The  tendency  of  the  times  is  rather  to  degrade 
than  elevate  mankind,  for  the  State  assumes  to  educate,  and  the 
State  has  no  title  and  no  fitness  for  the  task.  And  what  is  the  re- 
sult "i  A  stinted  intellectual  growth  at  best,  but  for  the  most  part 
morally  deficient,  deformed,  and  disastrous. 

Strange  to  say,  we  seem  to  have  boxed  the  compass  of  human 
thought  on  this  subject,  and  on  many  others,  too,  and  we  are  rapidly 
receding  to  the  deadly  centralization  which  preceded  Christianity. 
The  attempt  of  the  State  to  arrogate  to  itself  the  whole  scope  and 
direction  of  education,  is  both  pagan  and  revolutionary.  In  free 
America  we  profess  to  hold  in  abhorrence  all  doctrines  and  all  move- 
ments tainted  with  centralizing  tendencies.  We  consider  our 
liberties  in  jeopardy  and  oiu*  social  Hfe  threatened  with  destruction 
where  Csesarism  shows  its  hydra-head,  and  we  resent,  as  positive 


154 

impertinence,  all  efforts  of  tliat  ancient  paternalism  which  seeks  to 
swallow  up  the  individual  in  the  omnipotent  power  of  the  State. 
We  are  not  State-socialists,  but  political  individualists.  We  do  not 
want  the  State  to  build  our  railroads,  nor  to  confiscate  the  public 
domain  to  replenish  the  coffers  of  gigantic  corporations.  We  do 
not  ask  the  State  to  establish  and  conduct  our  banks,  develop  our 
agriculture,  dig  our  mines,  navigate  our  steamboats,  run  our  mills, 
factories,  and  foundries,  or,  in  fact,  concern  itself  with  doing  any- 
thing which  belongs  to  private  enterprise  and  the  industry  of  in- 
dividuals Every  man  who  understands  the  nature  and  appreciates 
the  benefits  of  free  democratic  institutions,  is  unalterably  o^Dposed 
to  that  concentrating  spirit  which  generally  characterizes  supreme 
powers,  and  which,  unresisted  and  unchecked,  crushes  out  that 
"unbought  energy"  and  native,  self-reliant  strength  which  alone 
can  make  a  nation  great,  and  flourishes  only  where  the  State  has 
never  stamped  her  iron  heel  upon  the  neck  of  individual  action. 
That  nation  is  great  whose  people  make  it  great.  And  people  make 
it  great  only  when  they  are  free — free  to  put  forth  the  powers,  to 
exert  their  genius,  and  gather  the  fruit  of  their  own  labors,  un- 
helped,  or  at  least  untrammelled,  by  the  action  of  governmental 
machinery.  State  monopolies,  or  State  establishments  of  any  kind. 
This  individualism  is  a  consequence  of  that  equality  of  conditions 
which  is  the  essence  of  democracy.  This  individualism  is  not  ego- 
tism, nor  is  it  a  proud  isolation  which  scorns  aid  from  others;  but  it 
is  the  natural  outcome  of  the  spirit  of  liberty,  for  when  all  are  free 
and  equal,  none  will  tolerate  any  interference  which  hampers  or  im- 
pairs what  may  be  called  the  self-acting  autonomy  of  the  people, 
whether  it  be  known  as  tyranny  or  paternalism.  Nor  is  this  individ- 
ualism inconsistent  with  strong  government  and  the  due  assertion  of 
authority.  Contrarily,  it  favors  power  in  its  lawful  sphere,  for  it 
knows  it  cannot  exist  without  adequate  protection,  since  none 
suffices  for  itself;  but  it  is  extremely  cautious  of  yielding  any  un- 
necessary power  to  others,  and  if  that  power  is  conceded,  it  is  care- 
ful to  define  the  scope  and  limit  its  exercise  by  written  constitutions, 
which  are  held  to  be  the  paramount  law,  unchangeable  by  any 
power  soever  but  that  which  called  such  constitutions  into  being. 

Now,   it   is  an  unaccountable   inconsistency  on  the  part  of  any 
people  to  resist  with  all  their  might  all  drift  towards  centralization 


155 

in  matters  of  minor  importance,  and  hold  themselves  apathetic  and 
indifferent  when  those  centralizing  influences  extend  to  the  affairs  of 
incomparably  greater  moment.  The  spiritual  transcends  the  tem- 
poral by  an  immeasurable  degree.  "What  signifies  land  naturaliza- 
tion, or  State  subsidies  to  "  Alliance"  farmers,  or  governmental  con- 
trol of  telegi'aphs  and  railroads,  or  even  the  regulation  of  the  rela- 
tions between  capital  and  labor  by  the  Government,  when  compared 
with  the  moulding  of  minds  and  hearts,  the  shaping  of  destinies 
that  are  eternal  by  a  power  that  has  no  commission  to  teach,  and  no 
competency  if  it  had  ?  And  yet  those  who  with  might  and  main  op- 
pose the  former  influence  are  silent  as  the  tomb  when  the  latter  ex- 
ert their  chiQing  and  benumbing  effects  upon  the  rising  generations. 
Of  all  forms  of  education.  State  education  is  the  worst.  If  there  be 
anything  the  State  is  not  fitted  to  do,  it  is  to  educate.  What  is  State 
socialism  but  the  absorption  of  the  individual  ?  And  how  can  the 
individual  be  more  effectually  absorbed  than  when  the  State  takes 
complete  control  of  his  intellect,  the  royal  faculty  of  understanding, 
the  chiefest  and  noblest  of  man's  powers.  Is  not  this  centralization, 
socialism,  Csesarism,  tyranny,  and  desj^otism  ?  Is  it  not  the  reasser- 
tion  of  the  old  pagan  idea  which  made,  not  the  State  for  man,  but 
man  for  the  State,  which  makes  the  State  a  God,  and  man  a  worm  ? 
But  even  under  pagan  rule,  the  State  did  not  always  and  every- 
where claim  control  of  education.  The  sagacity  of  some  of  the 
ancient  law-givers  was  sufficient  to  discern  parental  rights  and 
honest  enough  to  uphold  them.  Under  the  Roman  Republic  the 
parent's  right  was  respected.  In  ancient  Athens,  where  the  lamp  of 
learning  shone  with  an  immortal  flame,  the  education  of  children 
was  not  wrested  from  those  whom  nature  charged  with  the  office. 
It  was  under  the  Lycurgan  legislation,  especially,  that  children  were 
considered  as  bom  in  the  arms  of  the  State.  The  parents  were  held 
to  belong  exclusively  and  solely  to  the  State,  to  whoss  glory  he 
dedicated  all  the  power  of  his  being.  Since,  therefore,  "partus 
sequitur  ventrem"  the  child  was  subject  to  public  supervision  from 
the  hour  of  his  birth.  By  the  process  of  the  wine-bath,  and  by 
other  tests,  his  vigor  was  determined,  and,  if  weak  or  deformed,  he 
was  doomed  to  perish.  If  found  free  from  bodily  defects  he  was 
suffered  to  live,  and  at  the  early  age  of  seven  was  taken  from  parent- 
al care,  thenceforth  to  undergo  the  rigid  disciphne  and  education 


156 

« 

thought  necessary  to  qualify  him  for  citizenship  in  the  Spartan 
State.  His  whole  life  long  he  remained  a  child — the  child  of  the 
State.     Thus  he  lived  and  died  for  the  State. 

By  the  Lycurgan  system,  family  ties  were  severed,  domestic  en- 
joyments were  unknown,  and  all  the  sweet  comforts  of  the  home 
were  untasted  ;  for  the  State  dragged  the  child  from  the  arms  of  its 
mother  to  make  it  serve  a  master,  who  knew  no  pity  and  no  remorse, 
through  the  dreadful  hardships  of  discipline  and  subordination  re- 
quired to  make  a  lion-hearted  warrior. 

With  less  severity,  but  with  equal  authority,  the  Koman  Empire 
intervened  and  dispossessed  the  parent  in  faf or  of  the  State.  At 
the  time  of  his  death,  44  b.c,  Csesar  had  concentrated  all  power  in 
his  own  person.  His  successor,  Octavianus,  inaugurated  the  em- 
pire, and  being  himself  an  ambitious  patron  of  letters,  he  contributed 
much  to  bring  the  whole  business  of  education  under  the  supervision 
of  the  State.  Public  schools  were  founded  and  supported  by  the 
State  ;  and  by  the  time  of  Claudius,  w^hen  the  last  remnants  of  the 
old  republican  constitution  had  disappeared,  and  tyranny  and  des- 
potism were  at  their  height,  the  parent  had  almost  ceased  to  have 
any  voice  in  the  education  of  his  children.  So  complete  was  the  ac- 
tion of  the  State  in  controlling  education  that  Christians  were  com- 
pelled to  entrust  their  children  to  pagan  masters  in  pagan  schools, 
however  obnoxious  to  them,  if  they  wished  to  secure  for  their  off- 
spring any  secular  education  at  all. 

The  case  to-day  in  our  boasted  Republic  is  precisely  parallel. 
The  old  pagan  system  is  revived,  and  French  revolutionary  claims 
are  renewed  in  America.  The  absolutism  and  Csesarism  of  the  past 
are  duplicated  in  the  State  supremacy  of  the  present  The  children 
arc  the  children  of  the  State,  and  hence  must  be  taught  by  the  State. 
All  parental  objections  are  overridden  and  crushed  out  by  compul- 
sory education  laws,  not  for  special  cases  of  neglect,  or  physical  or 
moral  inaptitude,  but  for  all  cases,  all  classes,  all  conditions.  In  the 
State  of  Ohio,  not  long  ago,  Eev.  Dr.  Quigley  was  mulcted  in  a  heavy 
fine  for  non-compliance  with  compulsory  laws.  Spartan  severity  rules 
the  world  again,  and  Lycurgan  legislation  is  restored.  It  is  the 
renaissance  of  pagan  education.  Its  fiercest  champions  flourish  in 
Germany,  and  this  country  is  fast  imitating  its  Teutonic  teacher. 
This   system   is   anti-parental,    anti-Christian,    anti-republican.       It 


157 

strikes  at  the  root  of  democratic  institutions.  It  is  an  invasion  of 
natural  right,  personal  libeiiy,  freedom  of  conscience.  It  is  moral 
and  political  injustice.  It  violates  the  law  of  nature,  the  law  of  God, 
and  the  written  constitution  of  our  country.  Parents,  it  takes  away 
your  God-given  rights  in  the  education  of  your  offspring,  and  in  so 
iar  reduces  you  to  the  condition  of  the  Helots  and  serfs  of  ancient 
Sparta.  Eeraember,  you  cannot  abdicate  those  rights,  you  may  not 
shirk  your  duty.  You  are  responsible  for  the  souls  of  your  children. 
You  are  bound  in  strictest  conscience  to  give  your  children  an  edu- 
cation which  shall  be  such  in  truth  and  reahty.  No  State  can  take 
your  place.  You  are  the  natural  educators  of  your  children.  At 
whatever  cost  or  sacrifice,  you  must  resist  aU  encroachments  upon 
your  inalienable  prerogatives.  Yours  is  a  sacred  trust  from  Al- 
mighty God  Himself.  Your  children  are  your  own  because  God  has 
given  them  to  you.  He  wiU  require  them  at  your  hands  again. 
TeiTible  will  be  the  penalty  if  you  forswear  your  duty.  Those 
children  were  not  made  for  time,  but  for  eternity.  Christ  gave  to 
education  a  supernatural  end  and  destiny.  He  would  build  an  ever- 
lasting kingdom  never  to  pass  away.  You  are  the  almpners  of  His 
bounty,  His  agents  in  the  glorious  design.  It  is  for  you  to  say 
whether  your  children  shall  be  for  Christ  or  whether  they  shall  be 
against  their  Creator,  their  Eedeemer,  and  their  God.  "  Train  them 
up  in  the  way  they  should  go,  and  when  they  are  old  they  will  not 
depart  therefrom."  An  education  without  religion  will  sink  them 
into  the  deepest  depths  of  perdition.  God  has  fitted  you  for  your 
work.  For  your  sake,  and  for  the  fulfiUment  of  your  trust.  He 
thundered  forth  the  fiat :  "  Honor  thy  father  and  thy  mother."  He 
has  made  nature  your  minister.  Helpless  little  children,  they  cry 
with  outstretched  hands  to  you  their  natural  guardians  and  pro- 
tectors. Can  you  endure  to  see  those  souls,  the  images  of  Christ 
Jesus,  placed  in  jeopardy  ?  Can  you  steel  your  hearts  against  those 
plaintive  cries  ?  Can  you  suffer  a  cold-hearted  stranger  to  snatch 
them  from  your  arms,  a  soulless  and  a  godless  state  to  be  their 
f oster-mothei'  ?  Who  can  feel  for  them  like  you  ?  Who  can  care  for 
them  as  you  ?  Yours  are  the  anxious  days  and  the  sleepless  nights, 
the  weary  round  of  pain  and  toil,  the  penalty  which  nature  imposes 
upon  you  for  the  boon  she  gave  in  blessing  you  with  offspring.  See 
that  little  cherub  reclining  in  the  cradle,  with  the  unspent  energies 


158 

of  manhood  still  wrapt  up  within  its  tiny  breast.  Will  it  be  your 
joy  and  your  crown  through  life  ?  In  storm  and  in  sunshine,  in  ad- 
versity and  prosperity,  will  it  cling  to  you?  Will  it  smooth  the 
pathway  of  your  declining  years,  spread  for  you  a  table  in  the 
wilderness,  sweeten  the  cup  of  existence,  be  the  staff  upon  which  you 
shall  fondly  lean  when  bowed  down  by  years  and  toil  ?  Much  de- 
pends upon  the  laws  of  retribution  as  applied  in  your  own  case. 
When  a  young  Indian  chief  was  engaged  in  fighting  the  enemies  of 
his  own  nation,  he  was  dismayed,  on  lifting  his  tomahawk,  to  find  he 
was  about  to  cleft  the  brain  of  his  own  father,  who  traitorously  de- 
serted to  the  enemy.  "  Father,"  said  the  j^outh,  "  you  once  gave  me 
life  ;  I  now  give  life  to  you."  If  parents  give  life  unto  their  children 
by  the  discharge  of  their  duty  in  conferring  upon  them  the  unpur- 
chasable  blessings  of  a  Christian  education,  that  life  will  return  to 
them  sevenfold  in  the  unspeakable  consolation  of  beholding  them 
grow  up  full  of  grace  and  wisdom  in  the  sight  of  God.  And  the 
bread  they  have  cast  upon  the  waters  will  return  after  many  days. 
And  though  they  sowed  in  tears,  they  will  gather  their  sheaves  re- 
joicing. And  their  children,  and  their  children's  children,  wiU  rise 
up  and  call  them  blessed.  And  all  that  come  after  them  will  hold 
their  memory  in  honor  and  benediction.  And  the  nation  shall  see 
its  sons  and  daughters  everywhere  distinguished  for  all  the  civic 
virtues,  loyal,  brave,  and  patriotic.  Honesty  and  integrity  shall  then 
grace  the  age,  and  corruption  and  venality  shall  bow  their  heads  in 
shame.  Intelligence  and  virtue,  supported  on  the  indestructible 
basis  of  religion,  shall  stand,  a  wall  of  fire,  around  the  broad  domain 
of  the  Republic,  and  from  the  storm-swept  shores  of  Maine  to  the 
ice-clad  chffs  of  Alaska  it  shall  be  acknowledged  and  confessed  that 
national  greatness  and  national  glory  are  conditioned  upon  the  ob- 
servance of  just  laws,  which  respect  the  liberties  of  man,  give  to 
parents  those  rights  which  nature  gave  them,  and  "  render  unto  Caesar 
the  things  that  are  Caesar's,  and  to  God  the  things  that  are  God's." 


Chapter  III. — The  Office  of  the  Church  in  Education. 

If  the  dignity  of  the  subject  were  considered,  it  would  seem  more 
consonant  with  proper  order  to  speak  first  of  the  relations  of  the 


159 

State  to  education,  and  leave  the  functions  of  the  Church  upon  this 
head  to  be  determined  afterwards.  But  preferably  to  such  ai-range- 
ment,  the  Church  holds  our  attention  before  we  touch  upon  the 
rights  and  duties  of  the  State  in  the  grave  subject  we  have  pre- 
sumed to  talk  about.  And  this  for  two  reasons  :  First,  because  it 
falls  within  the  province  of  the  Church  as  the  spiritual  and  higher 
authority,  to  determine  her  own  functions  and  faculties  in  the  work 
of  teaching,  and  thus,  indirectly,  the  scope  and  power  of  the  State 
as  regards  education.  Secondly,  because  those  specific  and  prac- 
tical questions  concerning  public  schools,  the  nature  of  education 
when  imparted  by  the  State,  and  questions  of  conscience  involved 
in  the  subject,  are  better  weighed  and  studied  in  the  light  which 
flows  from  a  consideration  of  the  nature  and  constitution  of  the 
Church's  teaching  office  in  the  world. 

The  Church  estabhshed  by  Jesus  Christ  before  His  admirable 
ascension  into  heaven,  is  a  divine  institution,  whose  nature,  consti- 
tution, scope,  and  authority  are  all  designed  to  carry  on  and  com- 
plete the  work  of  the  Incarnation  of  the  eternal  Son  of  God.  That 
Church  may  properly  be  defined  as  an  everlasting  fabric  in  the  form 
of  an  external  and  visible  society,  complete,  independent,  and  distinct, 
though  not  necessarily  separate,  from  every  other  society  on  earth, 
whose  end  is  to  provide  all  men  with  means  adequate  and  necessary 
to  salvation. 

The  Church  of  God  is  therefore  a  perfect  organization,  divinely 
instituted,  and  embracing  within  herself  all  means  commensurate 
with  the  attainment  of  her  pre-established  end  and  destiny.  In 
every  society,  whatsoever  its  form,  there  must  exist  supreme  author- 
ity, for  this  is  essential  to  unity  of  aim  and  action,  to  the  preserva- 
tion of  order,  to  the  well-being  of  the  individual  members  and  the 
happiness  of  all,  that  all  may  conspire  in  harmony  for  the  fulfillment 
of  the  purpose  for  which  such  society  has  had  its  being.  Supremacy 
of  some  sort  is  of  the  essence  of  moral  government,  as  much  as  the 
law  of  gravitation  is  essential  to  the  existence  of  the  physical  universe. 
Every  army  has  its  leader  ;  every  kingdom  has  its  king  ;  every 
sheep-fold  has  its  shepherd  ;  and  every  society  has  its  head,  who 
personifies  its  authority. 

The  authority  inherent  in  the  constitution  of  any  society,  derives, 
in  great  extent,  if  not  altogether,  its  character  from  the  end  and 


160 

object  sought  to  be  attained.  .Here  holds  good,  in  a  translated  sense, 
the  axiom  of  Aristotle  adopted  by  the  school-men,  for,  what  I  may 
call,  its  paradoxical  propriety  :  "The  end  is  the  beginning";  for  as 
in  niorals,  the  end  is  first  to  be  considered,  and  all  things  directed 
thereunto,  so  in  the  constitution  of  societies,  the  power  and  authority 
conferred  upon  them  are  conformable  to  the  end  of  their  establish- 
ment. This  lies  in  the  nature  of  things.  For  the  power  of  society 
is  only  a  means  to  an  end,  and  the  principle  is  patent  that  the  end 
determines  the  means. 

Now,  the  Church  is  a  supernatural  society.  Her  mission  is  the 
mission  of  Christ  Himself,  to  train  citizens  for  heaven,  and  to  lift 
humanity  to  God.  But  how?  Not  by  physical  force,  or  violence, 
nor  by  any  other  agency  antagonistic  to  free  will  and  intelligence. 
Not  like  Mahomet,  issuing  from  his  mountain  fastnesses,  and  com- 
manding acceptance  of  his  Koran  by  fire  and  sword,  did  the  humble 
Galilean  spread  the  messige  of  salvation  through  the  world.  No ; 
but  by  the  unaided  majesty  of  truth,  established  by  His  miracles, 
and  embodied  in  His  life,  did  He  seek  to  conquer  a  stubborn  and 
perverse  world  and  reduce  it  to  submission  to  His  saving  sway.  He 
came  as  a  teacher,  and  His  school  was  the  world.  He  taught  the 
multitudes  from  the  ship.  He  taught  from  the  mountain  top.  He 
taught  by  the  silvery  sands  upon  the  margin  of  the  lake,  He  taught 
in  the  temple.  He  taught  in  the  harvest  fields,  and  He  taught  with  tire- 
less persistency,  whenever  and  wherever  He  found  a  company,  nay, 
even  an  individual  io  lend  Him  a  hearing — yes,  even  when  His  stiff- 
necked  and  deluded  hearers,  stung  by  His  searching  rebuke,or  abashed 
at  His  denunciation,  sought  to  drown  His  voice  in  clamor,  or  took 
stones  to  cast  upon  Him,  He  was  not  deterred  from  announcing 
to  them  the  character  of  their  crime,  and  the  punishment  of  their 
folly.  But  He  was  not  a  teacher  unto  death,  but  unto  life  eternal. 
Blessed,  indeed,  were  they  who  heard  His  word  and  kept  it.  The 
faithful  few  both  heard  and  kept  all  He  had  taught  them.  There 
was  one  characteristic  about  His  teaching  which  widely  separated  it 
from  all  the  teachings  of  the  great  men  gone  before  Him.  Because 
of  the  force,  the  simx^hcity,  and  the  beauty  of  His  precepts  some 
called  Him  Elias,  some  Jeremias,  or  one  of  the  prophets  come  to  life 
again.  But  what  a  shower  of  benedictions  burst  from  His  soul  upon 
them,  when  on  that  day,  by  the  coast  of  Cesarea  Philippi,  they  recog- 
nized and  greeted  Him  as  the  Son  of  the  eternal  God. 


161 

This,  then,  was  the  distinctive  ti*uth  He  had  to  deliver,  that  He 
was  the  Son  of  God,  come  to  redeem  a  fallen  and  degenerate  world. 
For  this,  some  put  Him  to  shameful  death  ;  but  for  this,  millions 
will  worship  till  time  shall  pass  awaj.  Christ,  then,  did  not  teach  as 
a  philosopher,  but  He  taught  as  one  having  authority,  whom  to  hear 
was  to  be  bound  to  obey.  He  taught  with  authority,  for  He  taught 
that  He  was  the  Son  of  God,  and  He  taught  as  the  Son  of  God.  He 
was  "  the  way,  the  truth,  and  the  hf e."  He  was  the  light  that  en- 
lighteneth  aU  who  come  into  the  world. 

But  mankind  He  was  not  to  teach  always  in  His  own  royal  per- 
son. The  time  of  the  leave-taking  from  His  little  household  came. 
They  would  hear  His  voice  no  more  ;  for  as  teacher.  He  taught  by 
the  Hving  voice.  *'  I  go  to  my  God  and  to  your  God,  to  my  Father 
and  your  Father,"  He  said  to  them.  "  I  go  to  prepare  a  place  for 
you,"  was  meet  consolation  for  the  great  sorrow  of  that  ^Darting.  "  It 
is  expedient  for  you  that  I  go  ;  for  if  I  go  not,  the  Praraclete  wiU 
not  come.  But  when  He,  the  Spirit  of  Truth,  shall  come.  He  shall 
teach  you  all  truth." 

This  truth,  then.  He  left  as  an  all-sufficing  legacy  to  His  disciples. 
By  His  invincible  power  they  were  to  regenerate  and  renovate  the 
world.  To  the  primal  Church  at  Pentecost  He  sent  the  gift  of 
preaching  the  saving  truths  they  had  learned  from  His  own  sacred 
lips.  The  world-wide  commission  was  conferred  some  time  before. 
The  words  wherein  He  conveyed  to  them  the  plenitude  of  spiritual 
jurisdiction,  whereby  He  constituted  them  the  governors  and  inalers 
of  His  Church,  were  authoritative  and  conclusive  to  every  unbiased 
understanding.  "  As  the  Father  hath  sent  Me,  I  also  send  you. 
Go,  therefore,  teach  ye  all  nations ;  teaching  them  to  observe 
whatsoever  I  have  commanded  you,  and  behold,  I  am  with  you  all 
days,  even  to  the  consummation  of  the  world." 

Henceforth  they  were  as  second  Christs.  They  were  invested 
with  Christ's  authority,  for  the  completion  of  Christ's  work.  They 
were  fired  with  His  fervor,  His  holy  enthusiasm.  His  everlasting 
love.  They  were  the  teachers  of  the  world  in  the  faith  of  the  divine 
Founder  of  the  Church.  That  faith  comes  to  mankind,  as  to  them, 
by  hearing.  "Fides  ex  audifu."  They  had  the  promise  of  infallible 
assistance  ;  they  could  not  err,  they  could  not  fail,  they  could  not 
change  the  truth  of  Christ  into  a  lie.  They  formed  the  teaching 
11 


162 

Churcb,  divinely  sustained,  divinely  guided  to  declare  the  truth 
unto  all,  even  as  it  is  in  Christ  Jesus.  This  was  their  tremendous 
function. 

And  that  office  they  took  up  with  loyal  devotion  and  a  sense  of 
consecration  which  no  men  ever  felt  before  and  never  will  again. 
The  words  that  fell  from  the  lips  of  divine  Wisdom  they  would 
make  known  from  the  housetops,  and  they  would  go  and  preach  the 
Gospel  to  every  creature.  With  Peter  they  could  cry :  "  Non 
possumus  quae  vidimus  et  audivimus  non  loqui" — we  cannot  but 
speak  what  we  have  heard  and  seen. 

Thus,  aflame  with  a  quenchless  enthusiasm  for  the  cause  of  Christ, 
they  bore  His  sacred  banners  to  the  ends  of  the  earth.  His  divine 
doctrine  they  unfolded  to  the  astonished  gaze  of  pagan  philosophy  in 
the  vales  of  Thessaly  and  the  groves  of  ancient  Greece  ;  and,  in  tha 
face  of  imperial  edicts  of  proscription,  they  published  it  in  the 
streets  of  the  Roman  capital  and  in  the  very  courts  of  the  Caesars. 
With  no  panoply  but  that  of  truth,  no  shield  but  that  of  faith,  no 
armor  but  the  sword  of  the  Spirit  and  the  helmet  of  salvation,  the 
intrepid  heralds  of  the  Gospel  went  forth  upon  their  heaven- 
appointed  mission,  and  this  little  knot  of  men,  this  army  of  Gideon, 
in  spite  of  numerical  inferiority  and  the  wiles  of  the  enemy,  marched 
on  in  battle  for  their  King,  and  though  they  fell  full  often  by  the  way, 
they  died  in  the  arms  of  victory.  They  preached  Christ,  and  Him 
crucified,  and  when  they  were  commanded  that  they  should  not  teach 
in  His  name  nor  fill  Jerusalem  with  His  doctrine,  they  answered  they 
should  obey  God  rather  than  men,  and  only  proclaimed  the  more 
that  they  were  witnesses  of  the  truth  and  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  whom 
God  hath  given  to  all  that  obey  Him.  And  though  they  were 
scourged  and  threatened  with  death,  they  went  from  the  presence 
of  the  Sanhedrim  rejoicing  that  they  were  accounted  worthy  to 
suffer  reproach  for  the  name  of  Jesus  ;  and  every  day  they  ceased 
not,  in  the  temple  and  from  house  to  house,  to  teach  and  preach 
Christ  Jesus.  The  Apostles,  therefore,  were  the  first  teachers  and 
preachers  —  teachers  who  were  not  afraid  to  die  for  their  doctrines, 
because  from  Christ,  their  own  Master,  Instructor,  and  Preceptor, 
they  derived  their  teaching  authority. 

Now,  whatever  authority  Christ  conferred  upon  the  Church,  that 
authority  she  manifestly  still  retains.     For  the  Church  was  founded, 


163 

not  as  a  corporation  in  flux  and  change,  but  as  a  stable  and  permanent 
society,  whose  end  and  the  reason  of  whose  being  should  continue 
to  be  the  same  until  the  "  wreck  of  matter  and  the  crush  of  worlds  " 
should  close  the  drama  of  the  ages,  and  time  be  swallowed  in 
eternity. 

The  divine  Founder  of  Christianity  established  a  Church  as  a 
means  of  propagating  His  religion  and  procuring  man's  salvation, 
and  for  the  attainment  of  that  end  He  conferred  upon  that  Church 
a  twofold  power,  the  power  of  orders  and  the  power  of  jurisdiction. 
The  first  was  for  the  perpetuation  of  His  rulers  ;  the  second  for  the 
perpetuation  of  His  inile.  The  latter  alone  concerns  us  here  —  the 
power  of  jurisdiction. 

By  jurisdiction,  in  its  ecclesiastical  comprehension,  is  signified 
that  whole  empire  of  authority  which  Christ  created  for  the  rule 
and  government  of  His  Church.  "All  power  is  given  to  Me  in 
heaven  and  on  earth."  "  As  the  Father  hath  sent  Me,  I  also  send 
you.  The  power  that  I  possess  and  the  authority  that  is  mine  I 
bestow  on  you  for  the  completion  and  fulfillment  of  that  work  for 
which  I  came  from  the  depths  of  celestial  glory  and  dwelt  upon  this 
earth." 

Upon  the  Apostolical  Church  Christ  conferred  spiritual  jurisdic- 
tion. All  power  for  all  things,  to  all  nations,  during  all  times.  Be- 
hold the  fourfold  universal !  The  Church,  moreover,  is  a  complete 
and  sovereign  society,  supreme  and  independent  of  all  civil  powers. 
Her  jurisdiction,  therefore,  is  likewise  sovereign  and  independent. 
It  comprises  all  those  functions,  and  embraces  all  that  scope, 
demanded  by  the  constitution  of  a  perfect  society  for  its  being  and 
existence  ;  and  since  action  is  according  to  the  nature  of  the  being — 
actio  sequitur  esse  —  the  same  character  and  extent  of  jui'isdiction  is 
required,  that  the  society  may  efficiently  and  actively  produce  its 
work  upon  the  world. 

Such  jurisdiction,  it  is  evident,  is  both  integral  and  comprehensive. 
It  has  all  the  constituents  of  ample  power  ;  it  is  full  and  complete  ; 
it  is  the  plenitude  of  power  ;  it  is  judicial,  legislative,  and  executive. 
It  impHes  power  to  punish  and  to  pardon  ;  to  make  laws  and  to 
enforce  them  ;  to  define  dogmas  and  condemn  errors  ;  to  teach 
truth  and  to  proscribe  falsehood. 

It  is  with  the  moral,  and  not  the  coercive,  aspect  of  the  Church's 


164 

jurisdiction  that  we  are  now  engaged.  This  obviates  all  contention 
with  Protestants  and  those  who,  denying  the  sovereign  power  of  the 
Church,  limit  her  authority  to  the  teaching  of  the  Gospel.  This 
phase  of  her  jurisdiction  only  shall  engage  our  attention. 

The  Church,  then,  draws  from  the  legacy  left  her  by  Jesus  Christ 
her  authority  to  teach  all  nations.  She  holds  in  her  hands  the  key 
which  unlocks  the  gates  of  truth  to  all  generations  of  mankind.  The 
perception  of  all  those  spiritual  realities  which  fertilize  the  world, 
and  the  opening  of  those  channels  of  divine  benediction  which 
enkindle  heavenly  fire  in  the  bosom  of  humanity  ;  the  unfolding  of 
those  vivifying  truths  which  burn  out  carnality,  purify  man's  sordid 
affections,  and  transmute  his  frail  and  darkened  image  into  the 
angelic  likeness  of  holiness  and  love,  are  all  involved  in  the  immortal 
message  she  has  been  commissioned  to  deliver  unto  men.  She  is 
the  very  oracle  of  God.  She  speaks  the  truth  of  God.  The  power 
of  God  is  in  her  hands,  and  the  word  of  God  is  upon  her  lips.  She 
is  the  light  of  the  world,  the  sun  of  the  universe  —  a  beacon  on  the 
shores  of  time,  whose  rays  flash  light  across  the  eternal  deep  that 
roUs  into  the  everlasting  ocean  of  divinity.  There  is  no  royal  road 
to  bliss  but  through  her  borders  ;  no  truth  but  from  her  sacred 
mouth  ;  no  life  but  from  her  holy  spirit.  Those  who  enter  not  by 
her  gates  are  homeless  wanderers  ;  who  hear  not  her  voice  are  as 
sheep  gone  *  astray  ;  who  behold  not  her  light  dwell  in  darkness. 
Without  that  light  the  soul  languishes  ;  the  spirit  in  man  is  dead  ; 
the  immortal  is  extinguished  in  the  gloom  of  unfathomable,  inex- 
pressible desolation  and  immeasurable  bitterness  and  woe.  Dark 
indeed  is  the  destiny  of  him  who  fails  to  find  her  by  his  own  fault. 
God  has,  therefore,  placed  her  as  a  city  on  a  mountain,  whence  all 
who  hate  not  light  may  see  her  radiant  form.  He  has  made  her 
voice  to  thunder,  like  the  Archangel's  everlasting  trumpet  calling  the 
dead  to  rise  from  the  four  quarters  of  the  globe,  that  all  may  hear 
her  tones  when  she  proclaims  the  thrilling  message  of  salvation. 
And  they  who  will  not  hear,  or  who,  hearing,  will  not  heed,  had  bet- 
ter never  been  born,  for  on  the  reckoning  day  then-  names  shall  be 
forever  blotted  from  the  book  of  life.  '*  He  that  heareth  you  heareth 
Me,  and  he  that  despiseth  you  despiseth  Me  and  Him  that  sent  me." 
God  cannot  be  mocked,  and  they  who  niock  His  voice  wiU  one  day 
call  upon  Him,  and  He  will  not  hear  ;  and  they  shall  seek  Him  in 


165 

the  morning  and  shall  not  find  Him,  because  they  have  hated  instruc- 
tion and  have  not  received  the  fear  of  the  Lord. 

If  Jesus  Christ  commissioned  His  Church  to  teach  to  men  their 
destiny,  He  has  commanded  men  to  hear,  that  they  may  secure 
salvation.  The  "  magisterium,"  or  teaching  power  of  the  Church,  is 
and  must  be  authoritative,  to  which  obedience  and  subjection  are 
necessarily  due,  whenever  she  prescribes  any  doctrine  to  the  belief 
of  her  children.  Her  authority  once  allowed,  mankind  is  bound  to 
listen  and  obey,  even  if  the  reasons  are  not  fully  manifest,  and, 
although  the  nature  of  the  doctrine,  at  least  intrinsically,  sui-passes 
the  comprehension  of  the  mind,  or  even  seem  repugnant  to  man*s 
finite  intelligence.  God  would  cease  to  be  God  if  He  could  not 
make  revelations  of  truths  beyond  the  limits  of  man's  shallow  under- 
standing, for  who  can  know  the  depths  of  His  unsearchable  riches  ? 

With  the  teachings  of  private  authority  the  case  is  obviously 
otherwise.  Human  reason  is  only  human  reason,  and  man  is  no 
more  than  man.  Conviction  is  the  measure  of  the  authority  of 
reason.  Neither  Plato  nor  Pliny,  Socrates  nor  Solon,  has  any 
authority  to  compel  belief,  and  much  less  to  prescribe  the  practice 
such  belief  implies,  except  in  so  far  as  their  reasons  require  the 
assent  of  prudent  and  enlightened  judgment.  Their  authority  is 
proportional  to  their  proof  —  "tantum  vales,  quantum  probas,"  says 
the  philosopher. 

But  the  Church  is  a  divine  teacher.  Her  credentials  have  been 
handed  her  from  high  heaven  itself.  She  carries  conviction,  not 
because  all  she  speaks  is  under  all  aspects  pervious  to  reason,  but 
for  the  higher  motive  that  what  she  utters  is  of  God.  There  can  be 
no  shuffling,  doubt,  or  hesitancy  here  ;  God  speaks  : — it  must  be  so. 

Nor  is  the  sun*ender  of  the  judgment  which  the  Church  exacts 
imprudent  or  unreasonable.  Her  service  is  a  reasonable  service. 
She  demands  not  blind  obedience  ;  no  slavish  subserviency  of  the 
intellect.  Her  authority  alone  can  be  questioned.  But  when  the 
motives  of  credibility  have  been  passed  through  the  crucible  of 
criticism,  and  her  divine  commission  corroborated,  obedience  and 
acceptance  of  what  she  demands  is  a  rigid  duty.  It  is  manifestly 
prudent,  it  is  supremely  reasonable  to  believe  all  that  God  has  re- 
vealed, even  when  the  doctrines  baffle  and  confound  the  proudest  ef- 
forts of  the  human  understanding.  And  if  it  be  entirely  consistent  with 


166 

the  dignity  of  reason  to  believe  what  God  declares  to  us  Himself,  it  is 
equally  compatible  with  rational  intelligence  to  submit  itself  un- 
questioningly  to  the  dictates  of  an  authority  which  God  Himself 
established,  and  which  for  its  complete  equipment  He  endowed  with 
the  faculty  of  inerrancy,  or  infallibility.  It  is  not  only  prudent  to 
submit  the  human  judgment  to  such  authority,  but  it  is  likewise 
necessary  to  the  life  of  reason,  which  is  lost  in  a  labyrinth,  without  a 
loadstar  or  a  guide-post,  when  it  rejects  the  care  and  companionship 
of  authority.  Dr.  Briggs,  the  erudite  professor,  who  at  present  has 
hurled  a  bombshell  into  the  Presbyterian  camp,  fully  appreciates  all 
this  when  his  perspicacity  carries  him  so  far  as  to  regard  the 
*'  Church  "  with  reason  and  the  Bible  as  the  rule  of  faith  for  true 
and  orthodox  believers ;  but  Dr.  Briggs  and  many  more  of  his 
peculiar  mentality,  in  the  long  run,  make,  like  Thomas  Paine,  their 
own  mind  their  Church  ;  unlike  Catholics,  who  have  no  room  to 
doubt  that  the  Church's  teaching  power  is  exercised  by  prescribing 
and  commanding,  and  is  a  part  of  her  divine  jurisdiction,  which 
must  be  unhesitatingly  obeyed,  when  once  her  power  is  recognized. 

The  memorable  words  of  the  great  Vatican  Council  are  here  in 
point : 

*'We  teach  and  declare  that  this  power  of  jurisdiction  of  the 
Roman  Pontiff  is  immediate  ;  therefore  pastors  of  whatever  dignity 
and  rite,  and  the  faithful,  both  individually  and  collectively,  are 
bound  by  the  duty  of  true  obedience,  under  hierarchical  subjection, 
not  only  in  matters  pertaining  to  faith  and  morals,  but  likewise  in 
those  relating  to  discipline  ;  so  that,  thus  maintaining  the  j)rinciple 
of  unity  in  the  profession  of  the  same  faith  and  communion  with 
the  same  see,  there  may  be  but  one  flock,  and  one  Supreme 
Shepherd." 

From  this  paraphrased  citation,  it  follows,  by  inexorable  logic, 
that  the  teaching  authority  of  the  Church  springs  spontaneously 
from  the  power  of  jurisdiction,  or  the  world-wide  commission  which 
was  given  to  its  first  founders  in  the  persons  of  the  Apostles  ;  that 
its  scope  embraces  directly  all  truths  pertaining  to  faith  and  morals, 
all  doctrine  contained  in  that  divine  deposit  once  delivered  to  the 
Saints,  and  from  which  they  draw  the  science  of  salvation  ;  that  all 
profane  or  secular  truths  which  bear  any  relation  to  religion  fall  in- 
directly under  the  range  of  this  spiritual  authority  ;  that  all  men 


167 

from  the  peasant  to  the  philosopher,  the  serf  to  the  king,  who  have 
been  baptized,  and  all  unbaptized,  inasmuch  as  they  wish  to  see  sal- 
vation— all  individuals,  all  families,  all  governments — are  subject  to 
its  soul-subduing  influence,  even  though  culpably  beyond  its  reach; 
that,  although  Church  and  State  should  act  in  concert  and  corre- 
spondence, mutually  assisting  each  other  to  attain  its  proper  end,  and 
although  they  are  not  in  the  relation  of  subordination  and  depend- 
ence, as  each  is  sovereign  in  its  own  sphere  ;  yet  they  are  not  in  all 
respects  co-ordinate,  for  as  the  things  of  soul  sui-pass  the  things  of 
sense,  the  spiritual,  the  temporal,  the  Church  may  lawfully  claim  the 
hegemony  over  the  State,  because  it  is  her  proper  function  to  define 
her  own  jurisdiction  and  thus  establish  the  exact  relationship  of  the 
one  to  the  other,  and  regulate  temporal  affairs  by  indirect  interpo- 
sition, inasmuch  as  they  may  be  connected  with  spiritual  ;  that  the 
Church  is  entitled  to  a  voice  in  the  affairs  of  education,  as  her 
Christ-given  mission  is  "to  teach  all  nations";  that,  although  the 
education  of  children,  in  the  natural  order,  is  both  the  ofl&ce  and  the 
duty  of  the  parent,  it  appertains  to  the  Church,  as  a  divine  right,  to 
instruct  in  the  ways  of  heaven  and  the  knowledge  of  God,  those 
children  who  belong  to  her,  because,  elevated  by  her  to  the  super- 
natural order,  when  she  conferred  upon  them  the  saving  sacrament 
of  Baptism  ;  that,  in  fine,  as  the  Church  is  the  very  gate  of  heaven 
and  the  poi-t  of  salvation,  the  only  means  appointed  unto  men  to 
attain  their  supernatural  destiny,  the  star  whose  light,  like  that 
which  shone  upon  the  shepherd's  path  in  distant  Jadea,  is  to  con- 
duct them  to  the  Bethlehem  beyond  the  everlasting  skies,  she  alone 
is  endowed  with  that  wisdom,  and  empowered  by  that  authority, 
which  enable  her  to  triumph  over  the  minds,  and  direct  the  souls  of 
men  ;  which  gives  to  her  pronouncements,  both  when  uttered  as 
definitive  and  infallible  judgments,  and  when  declared  as  disciplinary 
regulations,  a  force  that  must  not  be  resisted,  and  an  imperativeness 
that  must  be  obeyed  ;  which  quahf}'  her  to  sift  the  chaff  from  the 
wheat,  to  detect  the  false  and  discern  the  true  ;  which  confer  upon 
her  a  divine  competence,  as  the  spouse  of  Christ,  to  fulfill  her 
heavenly  mission,  to  furnish  mankind  through  every  age  and  in 
every  clime  with  that  code  of  morality,  that  spirit  of  discipline,  that 
sweet  attractiveness  of  worship,  and  that  unchallengeable  quality  of 
instruction,   that   heaven-approved   character  of  education,   which. 


'  168 

grounded  upon  the  precepts  and  maxims  of  religion,  enlighten  men 
to  see  the  sublime  destiny  marked  out  for  them  beyond  the  present 
life,  stimulates  and  animates  them,  on  beholding  the  emptiness  of 
worldly  happiness,  to  shim  the  bitterness  of  actual  disappointment 
which  follows  false  and  unfounded  expectations  ;  and,  instead  of 
building  ideal  monuments  of  renown  or  bliss  in  this  fallen  and  de^ 
graded  world,  to  press  forward  with  holy  emulation  towards  the  sov- 
ereign good,  and  inscribe  their  names  in  the  annals  of  heaven  and 
write  their  deeds  in  the  register  of  God. 

A  principal,  if  not  the  most  important  office  of  the  Church  in  the 
world,  is  to  educate  the  sons  of  men.  This  is  plainly  deducible  from 
several  heads  ;  namely,  from  her  commission  to  teach,  which  is 
divine  ;  from  the  destiny  of  man,  which  is  supernatural ;  from  the 
nature  of  education,  which  is  religious. 

From  the  character  of  her  commission,  she  draws  authorization  to 
teach  the  faith,  that  all  may  be  baptized,  and  to  enjoin  observance 
of  all  that  Christ  commanded  that  all  may  practice  morals.  No 
human  being  is  excepted,  for  every  man,  inasmuch  as  he  is  man,  has 
a  soul  to  save,  a  God  to  serve,  and  a  heaven  to  gain.  All  religious 
education  is,  therefore,  directly  under  her  control,  and  since  religion 
is,  pre-eminently,  the  most  essential  part  of  education,  every  kind  of 
education  lies  indirectly  under  the  supervision  of  the  Church.  The 
Church  has  to  feed  the  flock  of  Christ.  And  she  is  no  hii*eling  shep- 
herd. She  would  lay  down  her  life  to  save  her  sheep.  She,  there- 
fore, calls  them  all  by  name  to  follow  her,  and,  while  she  seeks  to 
lead  them  into  rich  and  verdant  pastures,  where  they  may  quietly 
graze  beneath  the  shepherd's  eye,  she  vigilantly  watches  lest  they 
may  wander  into  foreign  fields  where  the  deadly  nightshade  pol- 
lutes the  air  and  the  baneful  upas  grows  and  distils  its  poison  on 
the  grass.  She  has  to  teach  truth,  but  she  must  also  root  up  error. 
She  must  guard  the  flock  from  food  that  yields  not  life,  but  death. 
Now,  doctrine  is  the  food  of  the  soul.  Dogma  is  the  spring  of  de- 
votion, the  source  of  rational  service  due  to  the  Deity.  Truth  is 
life;  falsehood  is  death.  Truth  has  many. sides,  but  it  has  no  false 
side.  Its  aspects  are  many,  but  in  essence  it  is  one.  Bui,  error  has 
a  thousand  sides,  and  every  side  a  face,  and  every  face  a  thousand 
forms.  The  chameleon  cannot  change  its  colors  as  often  as  false- 
hood's protean  form  will  change  its  look.     It  sometimes  takes  on  the 


169 

likeness  of  truth.  But  it  is  only  a  semblance — a  base  imitation.  As 
hypocrisy  is  said  to  be  the  homage  which  vice  pays  to  virtue,  so 
falsehood  may  be  regarded  as  the  reverence  paid  to  truth  by  apish 
error.  But  the  difference  is  often  difficult  to  detect.  Error  i» 
shadowy,  elusive,  successful  in  deceit.  Only  an  eye  gifted  with  the 
faculty  of  divine  light,  which  can  perceive  the  great  realities  of  our 
earthly  abode  and  the  existence  of  that  heavenly  kingdom  which  the 
world  denies  and  disapproves,  can  discern  the  false  from  the  true, 
the  specious  from  the  real,  the  things  of  darkness  from  the  things 
of  light.  The  teacher  who  is  guided  by  the  holy  spirit  of  truth,  the 
Church,  which  is  the  pillar  and  the  ground  of  truth,  has  capability 
to  confound  falsehood,  to  tear  off  the  mask  of  hypocrisy,  to  put 
brazen  error  to  the  blush,  and  to  exhibit  to  the  eyes  of  men  the 
naked  majesty  of  truth,  arrayed  in  the  splendor  of  her  beauty  and 
the  glory  of  her  surpassing  excellence. 

The  Church  knows  that  the  best  punishment  for  eiTor  is  detection 
and  refutation.  Under  whatever  phase  it  is  presented,  her  divine 
prescience  penetrates  its  many-folded  veils,  it  pulls  down  its  visor 
and  shows  its  hideous  visage  to  its  intended  victims.  The  Church 
admonishes  her  children  to  be  vigilant  and  alert  lest  they  be  en- 
snared by  the  astuteness  of  an  enemy  which  has  warred  against  the 
works  of  Jesu3  Christ  for  nigh  two  thousand  years.  Doctrines  are 
developed  in  these  days  of  feeble,  languid  faith,  by  the  busy  brains 
of  mountebanks  and  false  teachers  upon  social  and  educational  ques- 
tions, especially,  which,  though  at  first  sight  manifestly  erroneous, 
because  upheld  by  a  great  show  of  argument  and  all  the  subtleties- 
of  sophistry,  are  indubitably  liable  to  suspicion,  and  hence  to  be  re- 
garded as  dangerous  in  the  dissemination.  She,  therefore,  prohibits 
their  pubHcation  until  their  truth  be  clearly  established,  or  their 
falsehood  be  shown,  by  the  impossibility  of  their  reconcilement  vdth 
the  revelations  and  traditions  of  faith,  and  her  infallible  voice  has 
spoken  definitively  and  authoritatively  upon  the  subject.  And  he 
that  will  not  hear  that  voice  shall  be  ranked,  says  Christ,  with  the 
heathen  and  the  publican. 

Many  profane  or  secular  truths  are  so  intimatety  related  to  re-^ 
ligion  as  to  fall  by  consequence  under  the  inspection  of  the  teaching 
authority  of  the  Church.  She  is  compelled  to  take  cognizance  of, 
and  pronounce  judgment  upon,  them  for  the  guidance  of  the  faith-^ 


170 

f  ul.  The  erroneous  conclusions  of  natural  science,  and  the  unproved 
theories  of  social  philosophers,  are  often  arrayed  against  the  obvious 
declarations  of  Holy  Writ  and  the  unbroken  traditions  of  Christian- 
ity, and  are  confidently  cited  as  confirmation  of  the  spurious  char- 
acter of  the  one  and  the  fabulous  origin  of  the  other.  To  lay  bare 
the  hollow  pretensions  of  these  enthusiastic  visionaries,  whose  arro- 
gance is  often  but  proof  of  ignorance,  the  Church  of  Christ  has 
found  it  necessary  from  the  earHest  days  of  the  Christian  religion. 
Philosophical  systems  she  has  often  to  reject,  because  of  their  im- 
pinging upon  some  truth  of  faith  which  was  assailed  either  explicitly 
or  implicitly  by  their  falsity.  Thus,  doctrines  denying  the  unity  of 
the  human  race,  and  systems  of  evolution  which  reduce  the  image 
of  God  to  the  likeness  of  a  brutish  beast,  by  evolving  not  body 
alone,  but  soul  of  man  as  well,  from  a  Simian  ancestry,  have  to  be 
sealed  by  her  disapprobation.  At  one  time  she  points  out  the  per- 
nicious tendency  of  Cartesian  principles  in  uprooting  necessary 
truths;  at  another  she  confutes  the  cold  and  sceptical  philosophy  of 
Kant  in  destroying  the  principle  of  certitude,  and  with  it  the  certi- 
tude of  man's  salvation.  Certain  customs  at  variance  with  natural 
ethics,  as  the  practice  of  the  ordeal  in  the  Middle  Ages,  that  of  duel- 
ling in  later  times,  and  the  doctrine,  long  since  maintained  and  re- 
cently revived  by  Felix  Adler  in  the  cultured  city  of  Boston,  that 
suicide  is  justifiable  when  the  conditions  of  existence  seem  almost 
insupportable,  have  likewise  to  be  stigmatized  by  her  as  opposed  to 
the  light  of  reason  and  revealed  truth.  Social  theories  and  bio- 
logical doctrines  most  frequently  demand  denunciation.  Platonic 
conceptions  of  human  society  are  not  so  current  as  formerly,  but 
they  are  not  unknown  at  this  day;  and  social  reformers  plan  the  re- 
construction of  the  race  upon  a  community  of  goods  which  em- 
braces, not  alone  lands  and  chattels,  but  men  and  women  as  well. 
The  Oneida  community  and  the  Mormon  settlements  are  cases  in 
point  in  our  own  country.  The  degrading  materialism  which  now 
permeates  all  classes  and  professions,  but,  with  regret  I  say  it,  more 
conspicuously  the  medical  profession;  which  glorifies  the  age  as  one 
of  pre-eminent  achievement  and  the  most  illustrious  in  the  history 
of  humanity,  simply  because  it  prefers  ducats  to  doctrines,  and  the 
clatter  of  the  mill-wheel  to  the  sound  of  the  church-bell;  which  lifts 
not  its  glance  beyond  the  grave,  seeks  for  a  soul  with  lancet  and 


171 

scalpel,  and  failing  to  find  the  vital  principle,  meanly  fancies  that  man 
is  doomed  to  perish  like  the  dog, — this  debasing  philosophy,  the  gos- 
pel of  despair,  the  meet  companion  of  atheism  and  rationalism,  must 
always  in  the  future,  as  it  has  in  the  past,  call  forth  the  condemna- 
tion of  God's  oracle  upon  itself  and  its  purblind  professors.  In  like 
manner  those  apostles  of  enlightenment,  who  substitute  knowledge 
for  virtue,  arithmetic  for  theology,  the  State  school  for  God's  temple, 
and  think  that  national  glory  is  permanently  secured  beyond  the 
reach  of  injury,  if  only  district  schools  be  established,  and  all  the 
children  of  the  land  be  compelled  to  enter  them  and  be  re-created 
in  the  image  and  likeness  of  the  State,  must  be  told  by  the  same  in- 
spired and  heaven-sent  authority  that  instruction  of  itself  cannot 
generate  morality;  that  knowledge  is  power  only  when  properly  di- 
rected; that  algebraic  formulas  and  mathematical  calculations  have, 
as  such,  no  uplifting  force,  and  that  any  system  of  education  which 
abolishes  religion  and  casts  out  God  from  its  curriculum,  must  ulti- 
mately become  a  national  calamity,  involve  in  irreparable  ruin  the 
whole  fabric  of  society,  and  carry  down  every  soul  within  the  em- 
pire of  its  influence  to  desolation. 

If  by  virtue  of  her  commission  to  teach  the  nations,  the  Church 
has  an  undoubted  voice  in  education,  she  surely  has  no  function 
more  unmistakably  her  peculiar  province  than  that  of  founding  and 
conducting  schools.  For  it  is  in  the  school  that  education  must 
principally  be  imparted.  It  is  true,  home  ought  to  be  the  best,  as 
it  is  the  first,  school  for  children.  Lugubrious  experience  often 
proclaims  the  contrary.  But  wherever,  or  whatever,  the  school  may 
be,  the  Church  must  always  claim  the  guidance  of  the  religious  edu- 
cation^of  the  children.  She  must  see  that  they  are  trained  for 
heaven.  Nor  does  this  infringe  parental  rights.  By  the  law  of 
nature,  and  inasmuch  as  their  children  are  their  own,  their  training 
and  their  education  belong  of  right  to  their  parents.  But  the  law 
of  nature  does  not  clash  with  the  institution  and  the  ordinance  of 
Christ.  God's  works  are  always  harmonious.  By  the  law  of  nature, 
parents  are  peremptorily  constrained  to  give  to  their  offspring  such 
education  as  befits  the  ends  of  their  creation,  to  become  woiihy 
candidates  for  paradise.  Those  children  can  read  no  title  clear  to  a 
celestial  inheritance,  save  what  is  grounded  on  a  supernatural  charter. 
The  boon  of  eternal  beatitude  is  no  natural  birthright.     It  is  no 


172 

heirloom  inherited  from  ancestry.  It  is  derived  from  the  gratuitous 
goodness  of  the  Creator,  and  it  is  sealed  by  the  Saviour's  ruby  blood. 
All  who  would  possess  it  must  be  grafted  on  the  stock  of  Christ  that 
they  may  shine  with  Him  in  glory.  They  must  be  members  of  His 
mystical  body,  children  of  His  Church  by  the  regeneration  wrought 
in  Baptism.  Parents  are,  therefore,  obligated,  both  by  natural  and 
divine  injunction,  to  make  their  children  Christians,  or  members  of 
the  Catholic  Church,  the  ark  of  salvation,  to  make  their  election  sure, 
and  secure  for  the  children  whom  God  has  committed  to  their 
custody  the  high  destiny  whereunto  they  have  been  appointed.  Ac- 
cording to  nature,  then,  the  child  is  the  parents';  according  to  grace, 
he  belongs  to  the  Church,  because  he  belongs  to  Christ.  The  two 
rights  involved  are  not  mutually  exclusive,  but  reciprocally  confirm- 
ative. The  Church  does  not  impede,  but  confirms  the  parental 
right  ;  does  not  hinder,  but  facilitates  its  due  exercise  and  proper 
application. 

This  explanation  is  deemed  not  inapposite,  for  a  leading  Catholic 
who,  some  years  now  past,  advocated  in  a  distinguished  Protestant 
presence  the  reconstruction  of  the  school  system  on  the  basis  of  the 
full  assertion  of  parental  authority,  and  the  rejection  of  all  State 
pretensions,  was  asked  if,  in  the  event  of  the  State's  retirement,  he 
would  not  hand  the  children  over  to  the  control  of  the  priests, 
answered  with  emphasis,  "  No  ;  I  would  give  them  to  the  control  of 
their  parents,  to  whom  God  has  given  them." 

The  Church,  then,  asserts  her  right  to  found  Christian  schools, 
and  her  claims  cannot  be  disallowed,  for  they  are  a  clear  corollary 
of  her  right  to  teach.  In  her  divine  constitution  and  heavenly 
charter,  obtained  directly  from  the  hands  of  Christ,  her  warrant  and 
sanction  for  such  authority  are  inscribed  in  indelible  letters  of  God's 
purest  gold.  For  nigh  two  thousand  years  she  has,  in  the  face  of 
opposition  and  in  the  teeth  of  furious  persecution,  exercised,  and 
claimed  the  right  to  exercise,  this  office.  And  she  can  never  yield  it 
up.  It  is  inalienable.  No  power  can  wrest  it  from  her,  though 
force  and  violence  may  obstruct  and  hamper  it.  It  is  inviolable. 
The  sanctuary  may  be  invaded  ;  the  altar  may  be  torn  down  ;  the 
walls  of  the  material  edifice  may  be  razed  to  the  ground  ;  and, 
touched  by  the  torch  of  the  incendiary  of  Hell,  the  sacred  temple, 
consumed  in  conflagration,  may  be  converted  into  a  murky  mass  of 


173 

rubble  ;  but  upon  that  ponderous  pile  of  smoking  ruins  the  Christ- 
sent  teacher  will  still  take  his  stand  to  hold  the  lamp  of  Christian 
learning  before  the  eyes  of  men  ;  and  if  the  fury  of  fanaticism  or 
the  hatred  of  Christ's  name  should  drive  him  thence,  he  will,  as  he 
so  often  did  before  in  the  dark  days  of  tribulation,  find  for  his 
unwearied  foot  some  other  resting-place,  and,  whether  in  the  gloom 
of  the  forest  glade  or  the  glare  of  the  mountain-top,  or  in  the 
sheltering  shadow  of  the  cavernous  rock,  will  unceasingly  pursue 
his  mission  of  pouring  on  the  minds  of  the  rising  generations  those 
beneficent  lessons  of  Christian  knowledge  and  instruction  which, 
when  the  world  and  all  its  mundane  glamour  have  perished  in  ever- 
lasting oblivion,  will  cause  those  whose  minds  were  thus  illumined 
to  shine  like  stars  for  all  eternity. 

With  what  zealous  care  the  Church  has  always  guarded  her  rights 
in  education,  and  with  what  indomitable  zeal  and  untiling  industry 
she  has  founded,  fostered,  and  supported  schools  in  every  land  and 
every  age,  shall  more  extensively  be  shown  in  later  pages,  when  her 
connection  with  the  progress  of  the  world  comes  under  considera- 
tion.    For  the  present  we  speak  only  of  the  principles  involved. 

In  all  the  pubhc  schools  founded  by  the  Church,  and  in  all  those 
designed  for  her  special  service,  as  seminaries,  colleges,  and  acade- 
mies for  the  training  of  her  servants  in  the  sanctuary,  the  Church 
has  dii-ect  control  in  everything,  according  to  the-Christian  theoiy  of 
the  relations  that  should  subsist  between  the  civil  and  the  ecclesias- 
tical powers.  Such  institutions  are  her  personal  property.  The 
schools  which  are  by  her  established  are  in  no  sense  subject  to  the 
State,  for  the  State  has,  and  can  have,  no  rights — super  sacris — over 
sacred  things.  All  lofty  argument  about  cherishing  national  senti- 
ment and  fostering  national  unity  are  the  boldest  rhodomontade, 
when  urged  to  make  the  State  supreme,  and  can  never  destroy  the 
rights  of  the  Church  to  educate  her  children  and  conduct  them  upon 
the  way  that  leads  to  eternal  life.  If  the  Church  has  the  right  to  teach, 
she  has  the  right  to  found  schools.  If  she  has  the  right  to  found 
schools,  she  has  the  right  to  supervise  and  control  them  ;  and  if  not, 
she  has  no  right  to  teach  at  aU,  and  all  her  claims  are  visionary,  her 
mission  is  a  failure,  and  she  herself  is  the  most  monstrous  imposi- 
tion" that  has  appeared  in  the  annals  of  mankind.  But  more  than 
this  :  from  all  that  has  been  said  concerning  the  connection  between 


174 

secular  and  religious  teachings,  it  is  undoubted  that  even  in  secular 
truths  and  teachings  not  regarded  as  religious,  in  a  narrow  sense, 
the  Church  has  an  indirect  right  of  supervision  and  inspection  ;  for, 
were  this  not  the  case,  how  could  she  guard  her  flock  from  noxious, 
baneful  food  ?  How  could  she  shield  them  from  the  shafts  of  error 
so  often  aimed  at  their  destruction  ?  The  countless  perils  to  which 
the  lambs  of  Christ  are  exposed  in  these  days,  and  the  panther-like 
passion  and  rage  of  infidelity  against  a  meek  and  inoffensive  Church, 
so  pertinently  personified  by  Dryden's  helpless  but  immortal  Hind, 
recall  to  mind  his  well-known  description  of  her  sorrows  and 
persecutions  : 

"  A  milk-white  Hind,  immortal  and  unchanged, 
Fed  on  the  lawns  and  in  the  forest  ranged. 
Without  unspotted,  innocent  within, 
She  feared  no  danger,  for  she  knew  no  sin. 
Yet  had  she  oft  been  chased  with  horns  and  hounds, 
And  Scythian  shafts,  and  many-winged  wounds 
Aimed  at  her  heart ;  was  often  forced  to  fly, 
And  doomed  to  death,  tliough  fated  not  to  die." 

And  the  ancient  virulence  has  not  lost  its  sting.  Arrows,  barbed 
with  gall  and  bitterness,  are  pointed  at  her  heart  to-day  with  measure- 
less malignity.  The  persistency  of  odium  against  God  and  against 
His  Church  has  thrice  the  energy  and  sedulity  of  a  hero's  uncalcu- 
lating  devotion  to  a  glorious  cause.  But,  for  the  most  part,  the 
assaults  of  her  enemies  are  covert  and  insidious.  They  employ  the 
ambuscade,  the  pitfall,  and  the  lurking  hole.  Satan  dons  the  domino. 
Guile  and  imposition,  and  all  the  blazonry  of  humbug,  surround  his 
seductive  overtures.  He  sometimes  throws  down  the  gauge  of  bat- 
tle in  defiant,  open  challenge,  as  when  his  emissary,  Jules  Ferry, 
spoke  his  malevolence  by  proclaiming  a  fight  between  the  "  glorious 
revolution  "  and  the  syllabus,  and  calling  to  his  aid  all  who  were  of  his 
dark  mind  to  wrest  the  youth  of  France  from  those  who,  adhering  to 
the  syllabus,  were  accounted  enemies  of  the  "  glorious  revolution  ";  but 
not  infrequently,  perhaps  most  generally,  the  Prince  of  Darkness 
advances  by  flank  movement  and  circuitous  approach.  He  presents 
doctrines  varnished  and  veneered  to  look  like  the  truth.  He  is  a 
specious  liar  and  unctuous  hypocrite.  Under  pretence  of  teaching 
secular  knowledge  he  pours  the  poison   of    infidelity   into   fresh, 


175 

receptive  minds  and  unsuspecting  hearts.  He  proffers  liberal 
stipends,  and  sets  hire  against  zeal.  He  inveigles  many  to  do  his 
work  for  his  magnanimous  wage.  He  employs  books,  schools,  and 
pedagogues  to  extend  his  influence  and  advance  his  empire.  He  is 
a  polished  and  indefatigable  propagandist.  He  is  a  schoolmaster  who 
is  always  abroad.  He  wants  the  schools,  he  wants  the  books,  he 
wants  the  teachers,  because  he  wants  the  children. 

He  fears  no  power  on  earth  but  one  —  the  holy  Catholic  Chui'ch  of 
Jesus  Christ.  He  stands  in  sublime  dread  of  her,  because  the 
power  of  Chi-ist  is  in  her  hand.  She  is,  he  knows,  invincible  and 
unconquerable,  like  Him  of  whom  it  is  written  :  *•  Behold  the  Lion 
of  the  fold  of  Jiidah  hath  conquered.  With  a  strong  bite  he  has 
broken  the  iron  bars  of  Hell,  and  hath  trampled  death  to  destruc- 
tion." And  never  wiU  she  surrender  her  schools  ;  never  will  she 
give  over  those  children  whom  Jesus  died  to  win,  whose  souls  £ire 
washed  in  the  libation  of  the  Saviour's  blood,  whom  He  called 
around  His  sacred  knee  and  touched  upon  their  innocent  heads,  and 
blessed  and  likened  unto  His  heavenly  kingdom  —  never  will  the 
Bride  of  Christ,  the  loving  mother  of  those  helpless  little  ones, 
devote  them  to  measureless  misery,  and  consign  them  to  a  fate  so 
foul  and  destiny  so  dark  as  that  of  those  who  are  cut  off  from 
Christ  forever,  to  be  oppressed  with  everlasting  night, 

**  Unseen,  untold,  unwelcome.'* 

But  how  can  she  hinder  this  sad  calamity  if  she  cannot  control  the 
education  of  her  children  ? 

To  her,  then,  belongs  the  right,  not  only  to  found  schools,  but  also 
to  supervise  and  inspect  them.  Whenever  any  question  of  faith  or 
morals  is  presented,  her  control  is  direct  and  immediate,  because  it 
is  her  peculiar  province  and  unique  mission  to  teach  all  truth  con- 
nected with  the  science  of  salvation.  She  must  always  exercise  a 
jealous  care  that  faith  and  morals  be  neither  corrupted  nor  dis- 
carded. Hers  is  the  tireless  task  of  watch  and  ward,  that  her  charge 
be  always  anchored  in  the  faith,  that  they  be  not  "  tossed  about  by 
every  wind  of  doctrine,"  or  be  engulfed  in  the  deep,  soundless  sea 
of  error. 

The  supervision  of  schools  involves  necessarily  the  inspection  and 
approbation  of  books,  and  authorization  of  teachers.     Otherwise  such 


176 

fiuperintendence  would  be  futile  and  illusory.  It  would  be  nominal, 
not  actual.  Books  are  the  vehicles  of  doctrine.  Tliey  are  among 
the  chief  instruments  of  education,  and  the  erroneous  teachings  they 
impart  cannot  always  be  eradicated  by  the  efforts  of  the  teacher. 
The  writer,  when  a  child,  saw  it  stated  in  a  text-book  that  Catholics 
thought  the  Pope  impeccable,  and  it  took  repeated  declarations  to 
persuade  him  that  such  was  not  the  fact.  The  printed  word  makes 
'  a  lasting  impression  on  the  youthful  mind,  especially  when  supple- 
mented by  cuts  and  illustrations;  and  aU  will  feel  the  force  of  this 
assertion,  who,  in  the  maturity  of  manhood,  will  make  the  effort  to 
«ee  how  vividly  and  correctly  they  can  recall  the  first  lessons  and 
pictures  of  the  little  primer  used  in  childhood. 

But  if  the  book  is  the  prime  factor  in  education,  the  teacher  is 
that  factor  indefinitely  multiplied.  His  influence  is  unbounded. 
The  child  thinks  in  him,  acts  through  him — the  child  is  what  he 
makes  it.  He  moulds  the  pupil  according  to  his  own  sweet  will. 
Fear  is  a  powerful  motive  to  the  incitement  of  action,  even  in  the 
matured  and  full-grown  mind;  but  it  is  all  but  omnipotent  in  its  sway 
over  the  green  and  tender  understanding  of  the  very  young.  And 
the  pupil  fears  its  teacher.  Eespect  for  his  authority  is  allied  to 
fear  in  their  minds.  He  can  thus  give  such  bias  to  their  thoughts, 
such  bent  to  their  actions,  as  may  seem  suitable  to  his  own  turn 
and  purpose.  And  if  he  be  an  evil-minded  man;  a  person  of  de- 
praved morals  and  vicious  habits;  a  being  without  honesty,  void  of 
integrity,  or  still  worse,  destitute  of  all  religion — perhaps  a  scoffer 
and  derider  of  the  Christian  name;  if  so,  what  human  arithmetic 
can  calculate  the  detriment — the  multitudinous  loss — he  wiU  entail 
upon  the  unscreened  and  defenseless  victims  of  his  malevolent 
mastery  and  diabolical  control? 

It  is  no  matter  for  marvel  that  the  Church  is  scrupulously  careful 
in  her  selection  of  tutors  for  her  children;  that  she  jirefers,  as  far  as 
feasible,  to  secure  the  services  of  religious  who  take  the  tenderest 
conscience  and  most  exalted  sense  of  duty  to  their  life-work  in  the 
class-room;  and  that  she  has  always  vigorously  and  insistently  as- 
serted her  claim  to  control  the  teachers  who  were  to  shape  the  des- 
tinies of  her  children,  not  for  time  alone,  but  for  eternity. 

The  Church,  therefore,  strenuously  affirms  her  jurisdiction  over 
all  her  schools  in  all  that  concerns  their  establishment,  equipment, 


177 

management,  and  practical  operation.  Without  her  canonical  com- 
mission, no  teacher  is  empowered  to  impart  religious  education. 
No  books  may  be  used,  even  on  secular  subjects,  which  are  danger- 
ous to  faith  or  morals.  With  her  functions  in  the  realm  of  educa- 
tion, no  State  can  interfere  without  transcending  its  authority  and 
exceeding  the  legitimate  limits  of  the  secular  sphere.  It  is  masterly 
impertinence  for  the  State  to  ordain  the  methods  of  instruction, 
prescribe  the  character  of  text-books,  or  dictate  the  personnel  of 
teachers  in  schools  belonging  to  the  Church.  The  requisitions  of 
the  State  carry  no  title  to  be  observed  or  respected,  because  her 
mandates  are  unsanctioned  and  unchartered.  Expediency,  policy, 
necessity,  or  the  acceptability  of  existing  conditions,  whose  alterna- 
tive would  be  productive  of  greater  hardship  and  difficulty,  may 
dispose  the  Church  to  yield  to  the  State  certain  concessions  in  the 
domain  of  education.  Such  allowance  may  be  eminently  prudent, 
and  in  certain  circumstances  such  indulgence  may  beget  results  ex- 
tremely favorable,  not  alone  to  order,  peace,  and  harmony,  but  to 
religion  as  well.  And  it  is  worthy  of  remembrance  that,  when  the  un- 
conditioned authority  of  the  Church  on  the  score  of  schools  is  af- 
firmed, we  are  chiefly  concerned  with  right,  rather  than  fact;  with 
the  order  of  ideal  excellence,  rather  than  that  of  stern  reality.  Of 
course,  where  faith  or  morals  are  in  jeopardy,  or  wherever  they  are 
directly  and  immediately  involved,  there  is  no  question  of  conven- 
ience or  adaptation.  E\^l  cannot  be  good;  nor  good,  evil.  Truth 
has  no  liberality  towards  error.  Truth  is,  in  so  far,  an  aggressive 
bigot.  There  is  no  alliance  between  light  and  darkness.  The 
Church  can  make  no  sacrifice  of  truth,  and  she  will  make  no 
compromise  with  error.  The  pillar  and  ground  of  truth  is  fixed 
upon  immovable  foundations.  The  work  of  Jesus  Christ  and  the 
words  of  Jesus  Christ  are  the  same  yesterday,  to-day,  and  for- 
ever. 

It  is  to  be  concluded,  then,  that  the  Church  is  charged  with  the 
supreme  control  of  her  own  educational  establishments,  both  in  re- 
spect of  their  religious  character  and  in  relation  to  their  material 
management.  No  secular  authority  has  the  right  to  strip  her  of  her 
temporal  possessions,  and  much  less  to  rob  her  of  her  eternal  pre- 
rogatives. To  deny  her  the  control  of  schools,  is  to  deprive  her  of 
the  control  of  scholars,  and  all  her  subjects  are  but  scholars  for 
12 


178 

eternity.  To  wrest  from  her  the  power  of  moulding  minds  is  to  ex- 
clude her  from  the  work  of  curing  souls. 

But  her  jurisdiction,  on  its  negative  or  prohibitory  side,  is  not 
conterminable  with  her  own  schools.  It  has  no  bounds  but  the 
whole  arena  of  education,  because  education  is,  in  the  main,  relig- 
ious, and  because,  even  in  matters  non-religious,  or  secular,  the 
moral  aspect  is  never  absent,  and  the  connection  of  the  two  orders 
of  truth,  the  natural  and  the  supernatural,  is  so  near  and  so  many- 
sided,  that  the  Church  must  maintain  a  constant  and  searching 
scrutiny  to  prevent  a  conflict;  or,  to  speak  more  correctly,  to  hinder 
any  encroachment  by  the  temporal  upon  the  spiritual.  Not,  indeed, 
that  these  two  orders  are  by  nature  hostile;  not  that  they  must 
stand  in  contradiction.  Both  streams  flow  from  the  same  infinite 
Fountain.  The  book  of  Nature  and  the  book  of  Kevelation  are 
written  by  the  same  Almighty  hand.  The  finger-marks  of  God  are 
found  on  every  page,  and  the  seal  of  supreme  Wisdom  stamped 
upon  each  mighty  volume.  Truth  cannot  belie  truth.  God  makes 
no  mistakes.  His  memory  is  not  short.  What  He  spoke  by  the 
atoms  of  star-dust,  the  grains  of  sand,  the  drops  of  water,  the  buds, 
the  flowers,  the  groves,  the  dells,  the  streams,  and  the  living  things 
that  move  within  the  deep,  or  walk  upon  the  shore,  He  could  not 
contradict,  when  He  spake  through  the  mouths  of  messengers,  or  by 
His  own  sacred  voice  to  the  intelligent  creatures  fashioned  to  His 
likeness  by  His  own  beneficent  hand.  The  central  attribute  of  man's 
nature  is  a  receptivity  for  truth.  The  pivotal  purpose  of  his  exist- 
ence is  to  know  the  truth.  God  has  decreed  it  to  be  so.  He  cannot 
frustrate  His  own  providential  plans  and  make  a  ludibrium  of  man, 
by  casting  confusion  and  inexplicable  contradiction  upon  diverse  parts 
of  His  own  divine  economy. 

The  natural  and  the  supernatural  are  not  made  for  strife,  nor  even 
rivalry.  They  are  entirely  congruent.  But  in  the  secular  order 
much  is  published  and  professed  under  the  fair  name  of  truth,  and 
with  the  baseless  boast  of  science,  which,  so  far  from  deserving  such 
distinction,  is,  and  must  be,  characterized  as  rank  error  and  absolute 
falsehood.  The  Church  is  holden  of  the  duty  of  guarding  her  sub- 
jects against  the  dangerous  delusions  which  spring,  even  from  the 
contemplation  of  error,  like  waters  from  their  native  fountain.  She 
is,  likewise,  charged  with  the  employment  of  preserving  the  spiritual 


179 

and  the  temporal  in  their  proper  relations,  and  it  is  her  part  and 
faculty  to  cai-e  that  religion  be  not  subordinated  to  thin^^s  inferior 
to  it  by  their  nature,  as  the  moon  is  inferior  to  the  sun,  to  use  an 
old  comparison;  or,  at  least,  so  co-ordinated  with  such  secondary 
subjects  that  instruction  and  education  would  be,  if  the  term  be  al- 
lowable, bisected  and  divided  into  two  educational  forces,  mutually 
independent  and  possibly  conflicting.  Upon  the  Church,  then,  it  is: 
incumbent  to  exert  every  effort  that  she  may  be  iuUj  informed  as  to» 
whether  secular  instruction,  when,  where,  or  by  whom  given,  be  of 
such  character  as  to  depreciate,  or  to  contradict  the  higher  spiritual 
realities,  to  assail  faith  or  morals,  or  to  endanger  the  salvation  of  the 
souls  whom  God  committed  to  her  hands.  The  whole  empire  of 
knowledge  is  so  interpenetrated  by  religion  and  so  grouted  with  the 
amalgam  of  morality  that  the  attempt  to  build  a  social  structure,  or 
even  an  individual  character,  without  these  consolidating  and  mor- 
tising materials,  would  be  no  more  possible  than  to  construct  an  im- 
movable pyramid  upon  the  shifting  sand,  or  to  fasten  together  the 
tilings  of  a  mighty  temple  Avith  cement  as  volatile  as  ether  or  as 
yielding  as  air. 

Besides,  the  mission  of  the  Chui'ch,  as  the  mother  of  mankind,  is 
to  conduct  all  men  towards  their  eternal  destiny.  That  destiny  lies 
far  beyond  the  shadowy  boundaries  of  time,  in  a  realm  of  supernal 
light.  The  present  life  is  only  the  blush  of  promise  ;  that  other 
life  to  come  is  the  real  fruition  and  fulfillment.  Here  is  the  seed 
and  the  planting  ;  there  the  harvest  and  fruit.  Those  things  a  man 
shall  sow,  the  same  he  shall  also  reap.  If  he  sow  in  sin,  he  shall 
reap  in  sorrow  ;  but  if  he  sow  in  grace  he  shall  reap  in  glory.  And 
this  grace  is  necessary  :  necessary  as  rain  to  the  thirsty  soil,  as  dew 
to  the  fragile  flower.  All  grace  is  born  of  the  blood  of  Christ.  The 
sweet  passion-flower  planted  in  the  sap  of  that  blood  shall  bear  the 
perennial  bloom  of  pax'adise.  The  hearts  washed  in  that  erubescent 
lymph  shall  glow  like  opal  in  the  damask  sunlight  of  eternity.  This 
is  eternal  life,  to  know  the  Father,  and  Jesus  Christ  whom  He  has 
sent. 

But  how  will  Christ  be  known  to  them  who  never  hear  His  holy 
name,  or  hear  it  only  to  profane  ?  And  if  they  know  not  Christ, 
how  shall  they  fulfill  their  immortal  destiny  ?  How  will  they  attain 
their  supernatural  end  who  are  not  taught  to  know  that  end  ?     How 


180 

will  they  attain  that  end  who  spurn  the  needful  means,  and  possess 
not  the  pass-key  to  the  treasures  of  God's  redeeming  grace  and 
love  ?  And  what  effect  can  teaching  have  which  makes  God  a  myth, 
the  supernatural  a  sham,  and  religion  a  re vilement?  The  modern 
secular  schools  laugh  to  scorn  the  faith  our  fathers  often  sealed  by 
the  surrender  of  their  blood.  Grace  is  but  a  gossamer  shadow  of 
some  unreality  which  haunts  the  pious  fancy  of  the  credulous,  but 
has,  in  point  of  fact,  no  objective  existence.  Life  to  them  is  an 
unsolved  and  insoluble  problem  ;  ease  and  opulence,  or  the  knowl- 
edge that  puffeth  up,  are  its  best  benisons,  and  the  grave  is  indeed 
its  goal.     "  Let  us  eat  and  drink,  for  to-morrow  we  die.'* 

"  O  !  if  earth  be  all,  and  heaven  nothing, 
What  thrice-mocked  fools  are  we  ! " 

To  protect  her  subjects  from  these  disserviceable  doctrines,  more 
deadly  than  hellebore,  the  Church  claims  the  right  to  rule  the 
whole  realm  of  human  knowledge,  and  her  competence  to  pronounce 
judgment  upon  the  character  of  the  mental  pabulum  offered  to  her 
flock.  She  alone  can  tell  the  medicament  of  truth  from  the  aconite 
of  falsehood  ;  and,  pouring  the  soothing  cordial  of  the  Gospel  doc- 
trine into  the  heart  of  man,  she  provides  an  antidote  for  all  the  bane 
which  error  distills  upon  the  human  soul.  But  for  this,  examination, 
inspection,  supervision  is  necessary.  Books  must  not  be  beyond  her 
gaze,  and  teachers,  too,  should  carry  her  credentials.  She,  the 
Church  of  God,  is  commissioned  to  teach.  She  gives  commission 
to  others  to  do  the  same.  It  must  be  understood  that  abstract 
rights  are  here  in  question,  and  such  rights  in  operation  might  make 
a  practical  wrong,  or  beget  a  giant  evil. 

The  nature  of  knowledge,  however,  which  is  nothing  if  not  relig- 
ious, proves  incontestably  her  claim  to  regulate  the  work  of  educa- 
tion. But  is  education  religious  ?  The  unbeliever  will  freely  grant 
the  Church's  right  to  teach  religion,  if  any  such  thing  there  be,  but 
he  asks  the  reason  for  mixing  religion  with  instruction.  Are  mathe- 
matics divine  dogmas?  Is  grace  an  algebraic  formula?  Are  con- 
cepts creeds,  and  is  philosophy  a  potpourri  of  theology?  Are 
divine  inspiration  and  heavenly  revelation  necessary  for  writing  and 
reading?  These  are  things  the  secularist  does  not,  or  will  not, 
understand.     He  thinks,  or  feigns  to  think,  that  a  clever  cipherer  is 


181 

a  good  moralist,  and  an  intelligent  grammarian  an  honest  man  ;  and 
when  convinced  that  such  is  not  the  fact,  he  grudgingly  allows  the 
need  of  some  moral  instruction,  some  kind  of  ethical  training,  which 
he  reduces  to  a  few  formulas  to  regulate  outward  demeanor,  to  pre- 
scribe affability  of  behavior,  kindliness  of  disposition,  patriotic 
sentiment,  and  the  observance  of  the  golden  rule  ;  but  at  the  same 
time  he  waxes  furious  at  the  bare  suggestion  of  religion  ;  asserts 
that  the  State  must  have  schools  without  creeds  and  sectarian  limita- 
tions ;  and  boastfully  proclaims  his  catholicity  of  sentiment  and 
liberality  of  view  by  scoring  bigotry  sans  mercy  : 

"  For  forms  of  faith  let  zealous  bigots  fight, 
He  can't  be  wrong  whose  heart  is  in  the  right,*' 

is  the  glorious  gospel  of  toleration  which  he  preaches  with  the  zeal 
of  a  dervish  or  a  demon. 

Let  us  analyze  the  nature  of  education,  and  we  may,  perhaps, 
discover  the  hollo wness  of  these  liberal  sentiments  ;  as,  at  the  same 
time,  we  shall  learn  how  futile  and  fallacious  is  the  attempt  to  teach 
morality  without  religion. 

That  all  children  who  come  into  the  world  have  an  undeniable 
right  to  an  education,  and  that  this  education  must,  in  the  main,  be 
derived  from  the  teachings  of  others,  will  be  allowed  by  all  who 
have  not  unlearned  the  habit  of  chopping  logic  or  "  cutting  blocks 
with  a  razor."  The  uninstructed  child  will  grow  up  Hke  the  brute, 
a  creature  of  animal  instincts,  animal  feelings,  and  animal  passions. 
If  the  wild  Indian  had  not  had  some  sort  of  teaching,  he  would  not 

be  the  man  whose 

"  Untutored  mind 
Sees  God  in  the  cloud  and  hears  Him  in  the  wind." 

For,  no  matter  how  long  their  sojourn  in  this  valley  of  time,  if  left 
in  their  native  ignorance,  or  if  dependent  upon  those  native  forces 
which  vaporous  philosophers  declare  will  carry  men  by  a  sort  of 
innate  impulse  to  the  ultimate  term,  or  the  very  apex,  of  the  perfec- 
tion of  their  being,  those  unhappy  members  of  the  species  who 
should  be  doomed  to  grow  up  destitute  of  all  instruction  would  be 
always  found  in  the  deplorable  condition  described  by  the  poet  : 

"  O  !  souls  in  whom  no  heavenly  fire  is  found  ; 
Fat  minds,  and  ever  grovelling  on  the  ground." 


182 

What  is  this  instruction  ?  What"  is  education  ?  This  has  been  very 
fully,  we  think,  explained  in  a  former  paper,  but,  for  clearness'  sake, 
let  it  be  extended  here. 

Education  means  the  leading  out  of  something.  The  leading  out 
of  what?  Undoubtedly,  something  within  man,  because  we  speak 
of  man.  And  what  is  within  the  man  ?  Under  the  four  fleshy 
-^yalls  of  his  person,  what  is  hidden,  what  enclosed  ?  Diogenes  went, 
with  lantern  in  hand,  in  search,  not  of  an  honest  man,  but,  as  the 
best  Greek  readers  tell  us,  in  search  of  the  man.  And  justly  so  ;  for, 
if  he  found  the  man,  he  would  lay  hold  of  a  man  at  once  honest, 
virtuous,  just,  prudent,  wise  ;  in  a  word,  "  the  elements  so  mixed  in 
him,"  that, 

"  Nature  might  stand  up  and  say  to  all  tlie  world, 
This  is  a  man  ! " 

Now,  to  educate  the  man,  is  to  make  the  man.  Man  is  created  by 
God,  but  he  is  made  by  his  educators.  To  educate  him  is  to  draw 
out  his  manhood  ;  'tis  to  make  him  live.  I  am  inclined  to  think  we 
do  not  live  nowadays  in  any  proper  sense.  We  fret  and  fume,  we 
buzz  and  bustle,  and  talk  and  work,  at  high,  explosive  pressure  ;  but 
do  we  live  truly  ?  Is  our  life  true  life  ?  I  trust  I  may  not  be  cor- 
rected to  exactness,  when  I  say  I  think  we  do  not  truly  live,  because 
we  do  not  rightly  educate.  Ours  is  a  hasty  and  conceited  age — a 
riotous  civilization.  We  live  outside  ourselves.  In  the  traffic  of  the 
mart ;  in  the  broad  and  garish  day  ;  amidst  the  pressing,  jostling 
crowds  ;  under  hard  and  strenuous  strife,  we  post  along,  seeking 
to  get  the  whip-hand  of  some  one  else,  and  wearing  out  our  little 
souls,  but  yet  we  do  not  live.  Life  is  from  within.  Introspection 
alone  can  find  out  what  it  is  to  live.  "  With  desolation  is  the  land 
inade  desolate,  because  there  is  no  one  who  thinks  in  his  heart." 
What  is  it  to  live  ?  Sir  Thomas  Browne  says  :  "Every  man  lives  so 
long  as  he  acts  his  nature,  or  in  some  way  makes  good  the  faculties 
of  himself."  I  gratefully  accept  his  definition,  and  I  say  every  man 
is  educated  when  his  nature  is  led  out,  and  when  his  teachers  in 
some  way  make  good  the  faculties  within  the  man.  To  Hve  is  to 
make  good  one's  faculties ;  to  make  good  one's  faculties  is  to 
educate  ;  and  thus  to  educate  is  to  live.  And  as  man  lives  truly  as 
man,  he  is  educated  truly  as  man. 


183 

I  take  some  pleasure  in  boiTowing  confirmation  of  this  educational 
theory  from  the  definition  of  "Webster,  who  says,  "Education  is 
properly  to  draw  forth,  and  implies  not  so  much  the  communication 
of  knowledge  as  the  discipline  of  the  intellect,  the  establishment  of 
principles,  and  the  regulation  of  the  heart."  The  Rev.  O.  L.  Bar- 
stow,  a  Protestant  minister  of  high  repute,  in  language  of  great 
power  and  pregnancy,  draws  out  the  same  doctrine  in  his  article 
*'  The  Religious  Factor  in  Education." 

"  Education,"  he  says,  "  is  nothing  less  than  the  development  of 
all  the  potencies  that  have  been  lodged  in  man.  It  concerns  itself 
with  the  full  contents  of  his  being,  and  with  all  his  possibilities. 
The  claims  of  education  are  precisely  the  claims  of  manhood.  If 
the  idea  of  manhood  be  low,  the  product  of  training  will  be  meagre 
and  inadequate.  The  claims  of  religion  upon  education  are  pre- 
cisely the  claims  of  a  complete  manhood.  If  a  man  is  worth  educat- 
ing at  all,  he  is  worth  educating  roundly  as  a  man.  If  the  capacity 
of  religion  belongs  to  his  manhood,  it  is  a  crime  against  that  man- 
hood to  ignore  its  rights  and  cripple  its  possibilities." 

.  In  its  genuine  sense,  education  is  the  development  of  all  the  facul- 
ties of  man.  It  is  the  growth  of  the  whole  man,  and  the  drawing 
out  of  his  "  full  contents."  The  tree  grows  only  when  its  root  and 
branches,  its  bark  and  trunk,  are  all  permeated  by  the  sap  beneath 
and  invigorated  by  the  air  around  it.  And  man  grows  when  all  the 
parts  of  his  being  Jiave  their  proper  play,  and  every  faculty  its 
legitimate  action. 

Man  is  a  compound  of  body  and  soul,  of  which  God  is  the  cause. 
He  has,  therefore,  a  triple  life  and  a  threefold  education.  The  body 
or  material  part  demands  its  nutriment  and  exercise  and  calls  for 
physical  education.  The  unused  member  dwarfs  and  decays  and 
the  inactive  joint  soon  stiffens.  The  soul,  or  intellectual  part,  calls  for 
training  and  for  culture,  or  its  faculties  will  be  dulled  and  blunted,  as 
the  neglected  tool  is  rusted — the  used  key  is  always  bright.  Nor  is  this 
all.  Soul  and  body  together  depend  on  God,  get  their  being  from  God, 
and  lean  for  their  life  on  God,  both  in  the  natural  and  supernatural 
order.  According  to  his  nature,  man  is  a  religious  being,  because 
he  is  born  into  the  world  with  an  intellect  to  know  and  a  will  to 
worship  his  Creator.  In  a  word,  he  was  made  by  God  and  for  God, 
and  even  if  he  were  not  raised  to  the  supernatural  state  by  the  grace  of 


184 

Baptism,  he  would  still,  in  force  of  his  very  nature,  be  the  child  of 
religion.  The  bond  of  religion  is  rooted  in  God's  creative  act.  The 
Maker  has  the  right  to  the  thing  made,  and  God,  as  absolute  Cre- 
ator, has  absolute  dominion.  God,  moreover,  is  not  only  the  Maker, 
but  He  is  the  model  of  His  creation.  He  is  the  prototype  of  all 
things,  as  in  the  vast  profundity  of  His  divine  mind  are  contained 
the  archetypal  ideas  of  His  wondrous  works.  But  in  a  stricter 
sense,  He  is  the  prototype  of  His  intelligent  creatures,  in  that  they 
are  fashioned  to  His  own  image.  Man,  in  his  immortal  part,  the 
soul,  is  the  living  image  of  his  God.  The  chief  end  of  man  is,  con- 
sequently, to  have  formed  or  developed  in  him  the  likeness  of  his 
Maker,  because  "  like  likes  like,"  and  God  is  the  great  type  of  moral 
perfection.  It  follows,  then,  that  the  faculties  of  man's  soul  must 
be  drawn  out  according  to  the  divine  pattern  of  which  they  are  but 
the  reflection.  This  is  explication  by  religion.  Besides,  all  things 
tend  toward  their  final  causes.  God  is  the  final  cause  of  man.  All 
things  have  their  pre-established  end,  and  that  end  must  be  always 
sought  by  them.  God  is  the  end  of  men.  All  things  act  according 
to  their  nature  and  capacities;  but  man's  nature,  capacities,  and 
faculties  were  made  for  God,  and  hence  must  make  for  God. 

It  is  as  evident  as  light,  then,  that  well-ordered  education  always 
makes  account  of  the  end  appointed  unto  human  nature,  or  the 
whole  man.  The  faculties  which  man  possesses — his  will,  his  memory, 
his  intelligence,  his  bodily  vigor  and  strength — are  but  the  means 
with  which  he  has  been  gifted  for  the  attainment  of  his  end.  And 
as  the  means  must  be  disposed  and  ordered  to  the  end,  the  whole 
quantity  and  quality  of  his  training  will  take  form,  color,  and 
direction  from  his  destiny.  Such  being  the  case,  it  is  inevitable 
that  man's  instruction  must  be  chiefly  moral,  and  religion  must  form 
the  foundation  of  the  whole  edifice  of  character  and  life,  and  be  the 
root  and  crown  of  manhood.  Those  alone  deserve  the  name  of  ed- 
ucators wKo  not  only  draw  out  the  faculties,  but  draw  up  the  man 
to  God,  and  thus  prepare  their  pupils  to  place  their  names,  when  the 
sunset  shadows  of  this  mortal  course  are  falling  around  them,  upon 
the  scroll  of  immoiiality;  for  life  is  lived  in  vain  to  him  who  does 

not  see  that 

"  Every  human  path  leads  on  to  God  ; 
He  holds  myriad  finer  threads  than  gold, 
And  strong  as  holy  wishes,  drawing  us, 
With  delicate  tension,  upward  to  Himself." 


185 

All  education,  then,  is  but  ill-considered  trifling,  or  still  worse,  a. 
monstrous  and  deadly  delusion,  if  it  is  not  built  on  the  basis  of 
morahty  and  religion  and  lead  not  up  to  God.  Such  irreligious 
training  is  not  only  futile,  but  deeply  detrimental,  both  to  the  in- 
dividual and  society.  To  the  individual ;  for,  as  this  life  is  but  a 
preparation  for  the  higher  life  to  come,  man's  highest  good  upon 
this  earth  is  to  fit  himself  for  that  future  felicity  granted  to  those 
alone  whose  godly  deeds  and  righteous  lives  have  ripened  them  for 
a  reward  whose  richness  has  no  measure  but  the  inexhaustible 
treasures  of  God.  To  compass  this  magnificent  meed  and  recom- 
pense, God  has  given  to  man  this  present  time.  His  next  best  gift 
after  grace,  as  the  period  of  proof,  of  trial  and  initiation.  The 
value  of  time  is  eternity.  The  deeds  of  time  and  the  flood  of  influ- 
ences that  flow  out  of  time,  run  down  to  the  shores  of  eternity.  Every 
hour  of  time  has  a  voice  that  will  echo  through  the  long,  hoary  ages- 
of  eternity.     Man  may  well 

"  Count  that  day  lost,  whose  setting  sun 
Beholds  no  virtuous  action  done." 

All  his  powers,  all  his  faculties,  all  his  gifts  of  soul  and  sense, 
must  be  employed  in  preparing  for  eternity.  If  not  so  used,  they 
are  abused;  if  not  so  employed,  they  are  destroyed — destroyed  for- 
ever.    And 

"  Sure,  He  that  made  us  with  such  large  discourse, 

Looking  before  and  after,  gave  us  not 

That  capability  and  God-like  reason 

To  rust  in  us  unused."  , 

Since,  then,  man's  high  destiny  is  manifest;  since  he  must  pro- 
cure his  end  or  perish  everlastingly;  and  since  he  can  dispose  him- 
self for  the  ultimate  term  of  his  existence,  a  life  of  bliss  unending 
only  by  the  performance  of  virtuous  deeds,  moral  actions,  and  re- 
ligious practices  in  this  present  transitory  abode;  it  surely  is  not 
traveUing  outside  the  record  to  maintain  that  education,  whatever 
else  it  may  embrace,  must  chiefly  tend  to  the  development  of  the 
moral  side  of  man's  nature,  for  if  it  be  otherwise  ordained,  the 
supreme  good  of  the  individual  is  disregarded  and  his  destiny  de- 
feated. 

But  if  the  individual  good  demands  a  moral  education  for  the 


186 

'Citizen  of  the  State,  the  welfare  of  society  makes  the  education  still 
more  imperative  for  the  good  of  the  community.  And  how  could  it 
be  otherwise  ?  No  individual  liveth  to  himself.  He  is  an  integral 
part  of  society.  The  body  is  in  full  sympathy  with  all  the  members. 
The  diseased  part  communicates  contagion  to  the  whole.  The  influ- 
ence of  each,  for  good  or  ill,  circulates  through  the  currents  that 
carry  life  or  death  to  all. 

And  on  what  is  founded  the  security  of  the  State  ?  On  what  de- 
pends the  coherence  and  stability  of  society  ?  Not,  indeed,  on  the 
wisdom  of  its  governors,  though  they  may  aid  to  avert  invading 
evils.  Not  on  the  force  of  public  authority,  for  human  passions  often 
become  but  superheated  by  an  attempt  at  suppression  from  without. 
Not  in  the  supremacy  of  law,  when  law  itself  is  ignored  and  de- 
spised. Ah!  no;  law  can  never  make  men  honest  or  virtuous;  it 
can  only  make  them  uncomfortable  when  they  are  criminal.  Ex- 
ternal power  can  never  move  or  touch  the  heart.  Unless  men  are 
thoroughly  imbued  with  sound  morals,  patriotism  will  languish,  and 
authorit}^  can  never  uphold  its  sway  when  it  is  not  rooted  in  the  respect 
and  the  affections  of  a  people.  Unless  men  are  trained  and  formed 
to  virtue,  social  order  will  yield  to  chaos  and  anarchy,  and  peace, 
prosperity,  and  their  attendant  blessings  will  take  wings;  the  very 
pillars  of  society  will  calamitously  fall,  and  the  social  structure  be 
rent  into  fragments  from  centre  to  circumference.  This  is  the 
record  of  the  ages — the  history  of  humanity  from  the  foundation  of 
government  till  this  present  day.  Witness  the  decline  of  the  vast 
Oriental  kingdoms,  whose  pomp  and  splendor  once  dazzled  the  won- 
dering world.  The  Assyrian,  the  Persian,  and  the  Babylonian  em- 
pires, where  are  they  ?  Upon  the  very  spot  where  stately  courtiers 
glided  round  the  gilded  throne,  where  the  minstrel  song  resounded 
on  the  breezes  of  the  night,  and  the  ruby  wine  was  quaffed  by 
the  luxurious  lips  of  royal  revellers,  the  plaintive  screech-owl 
hoots  and  the  wild  jackal  roars  unscared.  Where  is  now  the  great 
Roman  commonwealth,  whose  victorious  eagles  spread  their  gilded 
wings  both  under  the  rising  and  the  setting  sun,  and  whose  power- 
ful arms  were  unchecked  in  their  resistless  march,  save  by  the 
boundaries  of  the  habitable  world  ?  The  culture  and  refinement  of 
ancient  Hellas;  the  literature  and  learning  of  Augustan  Rome;  the 
magnificence  and  courage  of  celebrated  Carthage,  are    no   more. 


187 

Fuit  Illium.  They  lost  the  land  when  they  lost  their  virtue.  Opu- 
lence brought  indolence;  conquest,  corruption;  and  corruption  was 
but  the  shadow  of  the  coming  death.  Among  the  medieval  and  the 
modern  nations,  decay  cuts  its  progress  by  the  same  insidious 
course.  The  Frankish  and  the  French  monarchies  went  down  be- 
fore an  irate  and  furious  populace,  when  the  extravagance  and 
vice  of  kings  had  goaded  their  subjects  to  exasperation.  What  pre- 
cipitated the  horrors  of  the  French  Eevolution  but  the  inflammatory 
appeals  of  bloody-minded  infidels  ?  What  wrested  the  sceptre  from 
the  Stuarts,  and  consigned  its  fair  representative  to  lay  her  lovely 
head  on  the  block,  but  the  brutal  betrayal  and  perfidy  of  men  whose 
lust  for  lucre,  and  women  whose  spirit  of  envy  and  jealousy  had  not 
been  tempered  by  the  cooling  dew  of  religion.  What  has  brought 
so  many  powerful  and  wealthy  nations  into  impoverishment  and 
misery  but  the  scourge  of  God  upon  them  for  the  sin  of  infidelity  ? 
When  the  measure  of  their  crimes  w^as  filled  up,  He  opened  His 
cup  of  strong  mixture,  and  poured  out  the  vials  of  His  wrath  upon 
them.  "For  righteoasness  exalteth  a  people,  but  sin  maketh  a 
nation  miserable." 

If,  then,  history  has  any  lesson  to  convey  to  the  teachers  of  these 
times,  it  is,  that  man's  passions  will  break  forth  with  volcanic  vio- 
lence and  paroxysmal  fury,  when  not  restrained  by  the  strong  hand 
of  religion.  Without  God  there  can  be  no  commonwealth.  Moral 
power  is  required  to  hold  in  check  the  turbulent  desires  of  the 
masses;  moral  instruction  to  soothe  and  calm  their  hearts;  moral 
support  to  sustain  them  under  the  frosty  winds  of  adversity;  moral 
and  religious  training  to  render  them  fit  to  rule  and  be  ruled,  and 
thus  make  possible  and  practicable  the  order,  the  harmony,  and  the 
security  upon  which,  not  alone  the  good,  but  the  existence  of  soci- 
ety, vitally  and  necessarily  depends. 

But  here  we  are  met  with  a  formidable  difficulty.  To  my  think- 
ing it  is  at  the  bottom  of  the  question.  It  is  radical  and  funda- 
mental and  it  must  be  fully  met.  This  difficulty  originated  in  that 
spirit  of  liberalism  which  is  one  of  the  prominent  features  of  the 
times;  a  liberalism,  which,  logically  taken  to  its  lengths,  would  sac- 
rifice God  upon  the  altar  of  humanity,  and  spirit  the  Creator  out  of 
His  own  universe.  This  liberalism  is,  of  course,  kin  with  rationalism, 
materialism,  and  scepticism  of  manifold  kinds;  but  it  must  be  allowed 


188 

that  it  is  often  championed  by  men  of  amiable  mould  and  praiseworthy 
purpose,  who  hail  the  tolerance  of  the  times  as  a  certain  indication 
of  that  generosity  of  feeling-  and  spirit  of  fraternity  which  will  open 
up  the  arcadian  avenues  of  life  and  be  the  shining  mark  of  the  new 
era  soon  to  dawn  upon  humanity.  Greater  breadth  of  view,  in- 
creased liberality  of  sentiment,  and  a  wider  catholicity  of  feeling, 
are  to  be,  they  tell  us,  the  characteristics  of  the  coming  age.  Nar- 
rowness and  bigotry  are  to  be  forever  banished,  and  under  the 
softening  and  fusing  influence  of  this  new-found  alchemy,  all  creeds, 
all  classes,  all  conditions,  can  join  hands  and  march  together  in  one 
benign  brotherhood, 

....     "The  parliament  of  man, 
The  federation  of  the  World." 

But  to  attain  "a  consummation  so  devoutly  to  be  wished,"  the 
apostles  of  the  new  order,  with  far-reaching  sagacity,  perceive 
the  necessity  of  uniformity  of  ideas,  and  uniformity  of  ideas  de- 
mands an  education  which  shall,  in  -all  respects,  be  homologous  and 
uniform. 

Setting  out  from  this  benevolent  standpoint,  these  teachers  tell  us 
that  religious  strife  and  contention  have  been  the  curse  of  human- 
ity; that  in  their  nature,  these  differences  of  creed  are  wholly  irrec- 
oncilable; that  we  must  hope  in  vain  to  see  men  of  different  minds 
agreed  upon  the  subject  of  the  worship  due  to  their  Creator;  that 
for  these  reasons  formal  religion  can  never  be  incorporated  in  edu- 
cation that  is  common  and  general;  and,  therefore,  it  is  for  the  be- 
hoof of  all  to  devise  a  method  by  which  education  may  be  given 
without  trenching  upon  the  religious  convictions  of  any  believer 
whatsoever.  This  is  the  grave  problem  they  have  put  their  minds 
to  solve.  And  behold  with  what  facility  !  Simply,  to  teach  morality 
without  religion.  The  rights  of  conscience,  say  they,  must  be  re- 
spected. Catholics  and  others  have  a  just  grievance, — nay,  they  are 
subject  to  intolerable  tyranny — when  they  are  compelled  to  send 
their  children  to  schools  where  religious  doctrines  are  inculcated 
in  which  they  not  only  do  not  believe,  but  which  they  regard  as  im- 
perilling their  salvation.  They  have  every  right  to  protest  against 
such  course  by  the  State,  or  by  anybody  else,  and  to  attempt  to 
make  them  submit  is  the  very  essence  of  tyranny  and  persecution. 


189 

Creed  and  conscience  are  entitled  to  respect. 

Bat,  at  the  same  time,  morality  must  be  taught.  "We  want  not  so 
much  wise  as  virtuous  citizens.  The  passion  for  knowledge  is  no 
proof  of  the  possession  of  virtue.  Integrity  of  mind,  no  doubt, 
conduces  to  integrity  of  life,  but  does  not  constitute  it.  Sad 
experience  plainly  shows  that  trained  talent  is  only  a  more  powerful 
tool  in  the  hands  of  the  forger,  the  peculator,  and  the  swindler. 
Knowledge  is  power  for  evil  no  less  than  good.  Mere  intellectual 
education  has  produced  but  a  state  of  unrest,  discontent,  and  self- 
seeking,  which  everywhere  have  begotten  incurable  social  disorders, 
and  upset  the  peace  of  society.  High  culture  has  given  birth  to 
lofty  aspirations  and  exaggerated  ambitions,  which,  being  foiled  of 
their  purpose,  consigned  those  who  cherished  such  extravagant 
fancies,  to  direst  despondency,  and  often  to  despei^te  deeds.  In 
fine,  they  say  it  is  folly  to  entertain  the  belief  that  intellectual  pur- 
suits can  efficiently  restrain  the  passions  of  men,  or  that  mind- 
culture  alone  can  yield  good  citizenship,  and  give  us  that  kind  of 
men  which  make  a  commonwealth  great,  and  afford  assurance  of  its 

enduring  glory. 

"  God  give  us  men  ! 
Men  whom  the  lust  of  office  cannot  buy — 
Men  whom  tne  spoils  of  dffice  cannot  ^1 ; — 
Tall  men,  sun-crowned." 

So  they  cry,  these  broad-minded  philanthropists.  Amen,  we  say,  out 
of  the  fullness  of  the  heart.  But  how  shall  it  be  accomplished  ? 
By  teaching  morality  without  religion.  Nothing  can  be  simpler. 
God,  they  tell  us,  is  not  shut  up  in  creeds,  nor  in  any  farrago  of 
theology.  He  is  not  found  in  mumbling  dogmatism,  nor  in  incensed 
shrines  ;  not  in  sciilptured  forms  nor  mythological  heavens;  not  in 
saint  worship  nor  the  idolatry  of  images;  not  in  cold  formalism,  nor 
those  exclusive,  arbitrary  doctrines  which  speak  of  fire  and  blood 
and  hell.  No,  He  is  everywhere — in  the  glow-worm  and  in  the  star  ; 
in  the  fruits  and  in  the  flowers;  in  the  groves  and  the  lakes  and  the 
valleys  of  every  land,  and  He  is  in  our  flesh  and  blood  and  life, 
because  ''  in  Him  we  live  and  move  and  have  our  being."  All  true 
study,  then,  leads  up  to  Him,  and  no  system  of  education  can  be  con- 
sidered godless,  unless,  perchance,  it  makes  positive  denial  of  His 
existence. 


190 

Let  us,  then,  fashion  a  morality  independent  of  all  dogmatism — 
one  that  will  not  clash  with  any  creed.  The  fundamental  principles 
of  morals  are  as  easily  reducible  to  code  as  the  principles  of  mathe- 
matics are  to  systems.  These  principles  are  certain,  evident,  admit- 
ted by  all.  Catholics  may  have  some  peculiar  views  about  the 
sanctions  of  the  law,  the  intrinsic  authority  of  conscience,  future 
reward  and  punishment,  and  some  other  immaterial  points;  but,  so 
long  as  we  make  our  moral  teaching  purely  secular,  they  can  have  no 
cause  for  complaint,  unless  they  are  willing  to  be  set  down  as  im- 
placables.  We  will  be  just  and  fair  as  far  as  we  go,  and  if  they 
will  not  stand  upon  the  common  ground  of  our  generous  platform, 
the  fault  is  not  ours,  but  their  own.  This  is  specious,  but  it  is  inane 
and  nonsensical. 

Can  morality  be  taught  without  religion?  What  is  morality, 
what  is  religion  ?  What  is  the  relation  that  exists  between  them  ? 
The  Rev.  J.  M.  Savage  holds  that  "  they  are  separable  in  fact  and  in 
thought,  and,  therefore,  that  they  may  be  in  teaching."  Let  us  touch 
the  root  of  this  question. 

God  created  man  a  free,  or  voluntary  agent.  Before  His  new- 
made  creature  God  placed  the  power  of  good  and  evil,  life  and 
death.  Man  in  his  unf alien  state  was  t]je  happy  master  of  godly 
gifts  and  graces,  now  hardly  appraisable  save  by  the  sense  of  loss, 
then  designed  to  assist  his  perseverance  in  the  probity,  innocence, 
and  justice  of  his  appearance  upon  the  stage  of  life,  till  he  should 
be  confirmed  forever  in  glory.  His  ignoble  fall,  fast  following  his 
creation,  "  brought  death  into  the  world,  and  all  our  woe."  Stripped 
of  his  original  justice,  darkened  in  the  faculties  of  his  understand- 
ing, weakened  in  the  powers  of  his  will,  and  strangely  prone  to 
evil,  he  walked  the  world  a  frail  and  tarnished  image.  Thus  the 
creature  was  accursed  by  his  Creator,  but  the  very  terms  of  his  curee 
contained  the  promise  of  a  restoration  through  the  sublime  sacrifice 
of  a  Redeemer-God. 

What  did  this  redemption  imply?  It  implied,  indeed,  a  real 
restoration,  since  it  conferred  a  new  title  to  a  lost  inheritance,  ard 
released  man  from  the  payment  of  the  penalty  imposed  for  dis- 
obedience to  the  Deity.  It  was  a  full  pardon,  but  not  a  plenaiy 
reconstitution  or  replacement  upon  the  original  footing.  This  was 
a  consequence  of  the  infinitude  of  man's  offense.     And  the  dark 


191 

shadow,  the  black  and  gloomy  eclipse  of  that  primal  Fall,  rests  over  us 
unto  this  day,  and  leaves  us,  though  with  a  supernatural  destiny 
intact,  still  weakened  and  wounded  in  oiu'  natural  powers,  in  the 
integrity  of  our  manhood. 

Even  on  the  supposition  of  his  having  a  natural  destiny,  that 
destiny  would  be  more  than  difficult  of  attainment  to  man  in  his 
state  of  helpless  deprivation.  Had  God  so  willed,  it  is  at  least 
thinkable  that  He  might  have  left  man  to  toil  and  struggle  on  for 
some  appointed  period,  upon  whose  expiration  He  might  allow  Hi& 
creature  to  enter  upon  some  condition  of  natural  happiness,  which, 
though  far  removed  from  glory,  would,  at  least,  suffice  for  the  exi- 
gencies of  a  negative  bliss.  But  would  man,  could  man,  ever  reach 
even  that  penurious  beatitude  ?  Under  the  declension  of  his  natural 
powers,  enfeebled  in  all  his  faculties,  groaning  under  the  galling 
tyranny  of  his  passions,  would  he  not  droop  and  languish,  and  fall 
by  the  way  ?     How  could  he 

*'  Stem  a  stream  with  sand. 
And  fetter  flame  with  flaxen  brand  ?  " 

When  the  storm  of  temptation  raged  around  him,  where  could  he 
flee  for  covert?  When  the  fire  of  concupiscence  broke  in  with 
scorching  fury  through  aU  the  avenues  of  sense  upon  the  soul,  what 
waters,  divinely  flowing,  would  extinguish  the  consuming  flame? 
But  the  speculation  is  inconsequent,  for  man  has  no  natural  destiny. 

Man  was  made  for  God.  He  was  in  the  first  moment  of  creation 
elevated  by  his  Maker  to  a  supernatural  state,  a  destiny  far  beyond 
the  iirgencies  and  requirements  of  his  nature.  This  destiny  was 
not  his  due,  nor  was  its  attainment  co-natural  with  his  powers.  Man 
cannot  exceed  the  capacities  of  his  nature  ;  he  can  do  no  more  than 
nature  qualifies  him  to  do;  and  if,  as  it  seems  probable,  he  could 
not  reach  a  state  of  natural  happiness  by  the  exertion  of  his  facul- 
ties, destitute  of  all  external  assistance,  it  goes  for  the  saying  that 
his  unaided  powers,  nay,  all  the  strivings  and  longings  of  his  nature, 
though  unremittent  as  the  flow  of  time,  could  never  carry  him  to 
the  serene  heights  of  a  supernatural  existence  in  the  happy  mansions 
of  immortality. 

Accordingly,  it  was  so  ordered  by  his  divine  Benefactor  that  man 
should  never  be  entirely  excluded,  even  though  he  fell,  from  some 


192 

faint  glimpse  or  prospect  of  his  predestined  bliss;  while,  at  the  same 
time,  his  gracious  Maker  deigned  to  hold  out  to  His  ungrateful 
servant  the  precious  promise  of  such  helps  and  graces  as,  in  the 
divine  economy,  were  required  to  uplift  man's  fallen  estate,  and 
once  more  entitle  him  to  the  enjoyment  of  a  supernatural  state  in 
glory.  This  promise  would  one  day  be  realized  in  the  Redemption 
to  be  wrought  for  man  through  the  mighty  mercy  of  the  Son  of 
God.  In  fine,  God  made  a  revelation  to  His  creature.  He  spoke  to 
man  by  His  own  sacred  voice.  He  prescribed  the  plan  of  pardon, 
and  pointed  out  the  means  of  man's  salvation.  For  one  dispensa- 
tion it  was  the  observance  of  the  law,  and  hope  in  the  fulfillment 
of  the  promise  ;  for  the  newer  and  fuller  economy,  it  was  the 
observance  of  the  law  perfected,  and  the  participation  of  the  fruits 
of  the  fulfillment,  that  gave  man  the  j)ledge  of  everlasting  life,  and 
the  power  of  one  realizing  the  unspeakable  blessedness  of  his  super- 
natural destiny. 

To  attain  that  supernatural  destiny,  is,  then,  man's  chief  concern 
in  this  present  life;  for  what  will  it  profit  him  to  gain  the  whole 
world,  to  which  he  must  soon  bid  a  final  farewell,  if  he  lose  that  soul 
which  can  never  perish  or  decay  ? 

"  The  soul  of  origin  divine, 

God's  glorious  image  freed  from  clay, 
In  heaven's  eternal  sphere  shall  shine 
A  star  of  day. 

**  The  sun  is  but  a  spark  of  fire, 
A  transient  meteor  in  the  sky, 
The  soul,  immortal  as  its  sire, 
Shall  never  die." 

Besides,  man's  greatest  good  in  this  life  is  to  prepare  himself  for 
the  possession  of  eternal  good;  the  chief  end  of  life  is  to  know  the 
life  that  never  ends.  This  end  man  must  attain  or  be  blotted  out 
forever.  But  how  ?  Manifestly,  by  his  own  free  acts;  man  is  still 
a  voluntary  agent,  and  the  Fall,  though  it  disfigured,  did  not  de- 
prive him  of  his  freedom.  All  his  acts  must,  therefore,  tend  towards 
his  final  end,  and  to  direct  them  to  that  end  is  precisely  the  province 
of  morality. 

Some  fain  would  think  that  there  is  no  necessary  or  intrinsic  con- 


193 

nection  between  morality  and  religion,  and  that  there  exist  many 
common  and  fundamental  moral  truths  which  can  properly  and 
effectively  be  taught  without  reference  to  religion.  (I  will  consider 
the  relations  of  morality  to  supernatural  religion  later  on.)  If  they 
mean  natural  religion,  their  contention  is  utterly  absurd,  for  natural 
religion  implies  such  knowledge  and  service  as  spring  from  the  un- 
aided powers  of  reason,  and  establish  some  relation  between  man 
and  his  Maker,  and  thus  lead  up  to  God.  Now,  morality  is,  in  es- 
sence, identical  with  such  natural  religion.  For  the  principal  con- 
cern of  morality,  as  stated  before,  is  to  investigate  man's  final  end, 
and  to  point  out  the  course  of  conduct  and  tenor  of  life  which  are 
necessary  to  attain  it.  But  man's  final  end  is  God.  Whence  it  fol- 
lows that  morality  can  never  banish  God  from  its  domain,  unless  it 
change  its  nature  and  its  functions,  and  become  other  than  it  now 
is.  And,  in  point  of  fact,  to  this  pass  must  ultimately  come  all  those, 
who,  following  the  guidance  of  the  German  philosophers,  seek  to 
dissever  morality  from  religion  and  the  objective  realities  to  which  it 
is  essentially  related. 

It  is  true,  morality  lies  within  the  subject.  Man's  free  acts,  and 
his  free  acts  alone,  are  moral  acts.  And,  as  in  the  individual,  no 
acts  are  indifferent,  every  act  is  a  moral  act  or  its  contrary,  for  free- 
dom is  the  condition  of  accountability.  From  the  idea  of  freedom, 
merely,  the  notion  of  morality  does  not  integrally  spring.  Free- 
dom is  the  root  principle,  no  doubt;  but  morality  imparts  an  ad- 
ditional relation;  something  must  be  superadded. 

If  we  decompose  into  its  constituents  the  idea  of  morality,  and 
brush  off  all  the  meshes  and  cobwebs  of  sophistry  by  which  it  has 
been  overlaid,  remembering  always  that  the  ultimate  tendency  of 
our  actions  must  be  kept  in  view,  and  that  our  conduct  is  registered 
in  heaven,  it  will  be  made  manifest  that  truth,  justice,  benevolence, 
goodness,  and  morality  are  built  upon  a  basis  other  than  those  slip- 
pery and  deciduous  foundations  upon  which  superficial,  or  preju- 
diced, moral  philosophers  have  attempted  to  lay  down  the  lines  of 
duty  and  fix  the  standard  of  ethics. 

A  moral  agent  is  one  capable  of  actions  that  have  a  moral  quality, 
but  what  constitutes  that  quality  ?    If  there  is,  as  cei-tainly  there 
must  be,  a  moral  standard  and  rule  of  right,  what  is  that  standard 
and  that  rule  ? 
13 


194 

Upon  subjecting  to  analysis  the  character  of  any  action  regarded 
as  virtuous,  just,  or  moral,  we  shall  not  fail  to  find  that,  over  and 
above  the  freedom  and  intelligence  by  which  the  will  of  the  moral 
agent  is  enabled  to  make  choice,  preference,  rejection,  resolution, 
wish,  desire,  and  all  the  shades  and  degrees  of  volition,  which  fall 
under  the  empire  of  the  will,  three  principal  factors  are  at  once  rec- 
ognized, and  these  three  are  :  The  will  itself;  the  law  to  which  it 
bends,  or  against  which  it  rebels;  and  God,  the  law-giver,  to  whom 
the  law  obviously  points,  and  whose  sanctions  make  the  law  of  obli- 
gation unto  men. 

The  will,  then,  may  be  termed,  for  it  really  is,  the  moral  *  faculty 
in  man.  Nothing  can  be  morally  commendable,  or  morally  repre- 
hensible, which  does  not  proceed  from  a  free  and  voluntary  prin- 
ciple, which  principle  is  the  will.  The  will  is  the  seat  of  virtue  and 
the  throne  of  vice.  "  Omne  peccatum  est  voluntarium,"  says  the  theo- 
logical maxim.  AH '  responsibility  must,  consequently,  come  within 
the  sphere  of  the  will,  and  responsibility  is  as  wide  as  the  will. 
There  is  nothing  meritorious  in  intellectual  acts,  as  such,  and  they 
become  imputable  only  because  the  intellect  lies  under  the  impera- 
tive power  of  the  will.  For  the  same  reason  every  wish  and  thought 
and  desire  and  concupiscence  is  criminal,  or  the  contrary,  because 
they  all  fall  under  the  dominion  of  the  optative  faculty.  Some  acts, 
at  least  in  the  abstract,  may  be  considered  as  indifferent,  as  to  walk, 
or  sit,  or  run;  to  prefer  pleasure  to  pain,  a  prosperous  life  to  an  in- 
digent one,  or  solitude  to  society.  But  it  will  be  seen,  upon  reflec- 
tion, that  these  several  actions  are  informed  by  some  motive,  and 
derive  all  their  merit  or  their  demerit  from  the  intention  that  im- 
pelled their  performance.  Newton  could  ascribe  no  credit  to  him- 
self for  discovering  the  fluxionary  calculus,  or  the  law  of  gravita- 
tion; Stephenson,  none,  for  his  useful  inventions;  Harvey,  none,  for 
his  theory  of  the  circulation  of  the  blood;  Columbus,  none,  for  his 
discovery  of  a  continent, — beyond  the  meritorious  character  of  the 
motives  by  which  their  minds  were  swayed  in  their  operations.  In 
short,  the  end  before  their  view,  it  was,  that  gave  moral  form  and 
character  to  their  illustrious  achievements.  What  was  this  end  ?  If 
it  were  vainglory,  or  selfish  interest,  their  deeds,  like  those  of  the 

*  This  is  a  term  of  convenience.  I  know  there  is  no  special  moral  sense  in 
man,  apart  from  his  will  and  intellect. 


195 

ancient  pagans,  merited  only  transient  recompense,  and  the  reward 
received  was  limited  to  this  life  ;  but,  if  for  some  supernatural 
motive,  they  put  forth  their  powers  and  expended  their  talents,  then 
was  their  reward  in  glory.  "For  whether  we  eat,  or  whether  we 
drink,  we  must  do  all  to  the  honor  and  glory  of  God."  But  what  is 
it  to  honor  and  glorify  God  ?  It  is  to  observe  His  law;  "If  any 
man  love  Me,  he  will  keep  My  commandments,"  is  true  of  the  natural 
as  well  as  of  the  divina  positive  law. 

Law,  then,  is  the  rule  of  action  for  the  will.  This  law  is  both 
independent  of,  and  superior  to,  the  will  of  the  free  agent.  It  is  not 
only  superior  to  the  wih,  but  binding  upon  it,  and  binding  upon  all 
beings  who  enjoy  the  faculty  of  freedom.  It  does  not  imply  any 
limitation,  but  rather  the  perfection  of  liberty.  What  is  this  law  ? 
What  is  it  but  the  law  of  right  reason  ?  and  reason,  as  a  rule  of 
action,  is  conscience,  the  practical  judgment  made  by  every  man 
upon  the  morality  of  his  acts.  This  conscience  speaks  with  such 
authority,  that  it  can  "  make  cowards  of  us  all "  when  we  ignore  its 
dictates  or  spurn  its  commands.  And  yet  it  is  only  a  voice,  a  herald, 
an  interpreter,  a  rule  of  a  rule.  It  is,  indeed,  an  ultimate  fact  in  the 
human  mind  in  reference  to  morals;  but  it  represents  an  ultimate  fact 
in  the  divine  mind,  the  eternal  law  of  God.  Reason,  tracing  up  the 
law  to  its  fountain-head,  is  led  to  connect  it  with  a  divine  law,  and 
this  divine  law,  in  turn,  with  the  will  of  a  Supreme  Law-giver,  who 
is  God.  The  moral  law,  therefore,  uneiringly  points  to  God.  God 
is  the  fount  of  all  obligation,  the  soui'ce  of  all  authority,  the  final 
object  of  the  mind's  contemplation  in  its  search  for  the  rule  of  right. 
It  seems  phin,  then,  what  constitutes  the  moral  quality  in  the  human 
act.  It  is  the  conformity  of  the  will  with  the  eternal  law  in  the 
divine  Nature.  It  is  the  free  will,  enlightened  by  reasgn,  com- 
manded by  conscience,  conforming  its  conduct  to  the  last  and  final 
law  of  human  action,  the  eternal  law  of  God.  Thus  we  have  :  Free 
will;  free  will  working  according  to  rule;  rule  related  to  God — and 
the  product  is  righteousness,  virtue,  morality.  This,  then,  is  morality. 
But  it  is  also  natural  religion,  if,  in  a  strict  sense,*  there  be  such 
religion.  If  so,  moraUty  cannot  be  taught  without  teaching  natural 
religion. 

*Isay  "strict  sense,"  because,  as  Card.  Newman  says,  there  seems  to  be 
no  time  or  place  when  reason  was  left  without  any  external  aid. 


196 

It  may  be  objected  that  we  make  morality  depend  upon  the  arbi- 
trary will  of  God.  Are  we  not,  by  the  dictates  of  morality,  to  do 
right  ?  and  right  is  right,  not  because  God  wills  it,  but  because  it  is 
right. 

Natural  reason,  says  Suarez  (de  Legibus),  indicates  what  is  in 
itself  good  or  bad." 

Are  not,  then,  as  Mr.  Lilly  affirms,  "  the  great  fundamental  truths 
of  ethics  necessary,  like  the  great  fundamental  truths  of  mathe- 
matics "  ?  Hence,  "  they  do  not  proceed  from  the  arbitrary  will  of 
God.  They  are  unchangeable  even  by  the  fiat  of  the  Omnipotent." 
If  we  grant  the  whole,  as  we  may,  there  is  stiU  no  argument  for  the 
separability  of  religion  from  morality. 

We  are  confronting  a  deep  problem — the  question  of  the  founda- 
tions of  morality.  We  are  penetrating,  as  it  were,  the  very  inbeing 
of  the  Infinite,  and  measuring  the  intrinsicality  of  the  divine  essence, 
and  soaring  through  those  subtle  airs  that  encircle  the  throne  of 
God. 

There  is  but  one  God,  the  supreme,  necessary,  self-existent,  and 
eternal  Being.  In  Himself  He  contains  the  plenitude  of  all  perfec- 
tion. He  is  the  great  First  Truth,  the  Supreme  Fact,  the  Cause  un- 
caused, and  the  first  Beginning  and  the  last  End  of  all  that  is  or  can 
be.  All  His  attributes  are  identical  with  Himself,  because  He  is  one 
pure  and  simple  Act.  His  existence  and  His  essence  are  one  and 
the  same,  because  His  essence  is  to  be.  "  I  am  who  am."  His  own 
life  is  His  law,  and  He  is  subject  to  no  other.  The  will  by  which  He 
binds  His  creatures  to  certain  lines  of  action  which  are  right  and 
proper  for  them,  according  to  their  natures,  is  a  law  for  those 
creatures ;  but  strictly  speaking,  the  will  which  impels  God  to  love 
truth,  justice,  goodness,  right,  is  not  a  law  for  God,  since  He  does 
not  impose  law  upon  Himself,  but  acts  consonantly  to  the  require- 
ments of  His  nature.  Right,  then,  is  right,  not  because  He  wills  it, 
but  He  wills  it  because  it  is  right,  and  He  must  will  it  because  it 
is  right.  It  is  in  the  eternal  fitness  of  things  that  it  should  be 
so,  and  to  reverse  this  order,  and  make  moral  distinctions  depend, 
as  some  do,  on  the  arbitrary  will  of  God,  is  to  unsettle  the  founda- 
tions of  morality. 

Viewed,  then,  in  its  metaphysical  foundations,  morality  is  not 
founded  upon  the  free  will  of  God,  for  God  cannot  make  justice  in- 


197 

justice,  nor  right  wrong,  any  more  than  He  can  make  two  and  two 
five,  or  the  two  sides  of  an  isosceles  triangle  less  than  the  third  side; 
and  in  this  sense  it  is  true  that  moral  distinctions  are  antecedent  to 
the  divine  will.  But  if  there  is  any  law  for  rational  creatures,  they 
are  constrained  to  keep  the  moral  order;  if  there  be  any  such  thing 
as  moral  government  in  the  world,  the  divine  ordinance  and  divine 
will  must  be  a  factor  in  the  universe  of  God.  It  follows,  then,  that, 
prescinding  from  the  will  of  God,  we  may  have  an  initial,  funda- 
mental morality,  in  which  the  essential  relation  of  things  find  place ; 
but  if  we  seek  for  formal  morahty,  which  binds  the  will  and  the 
conscience  of  man,  we  must  have  recourse  to  the  will  of  God.  We 
do  not  found  right  on  the  simple  will  of  God,  but  on  His  will  in 
agreement  with  His  reason.  His  nature.  His  holiness;  and  sanctity  is 
an  attribute  as  essential  to  God  as  His  own  nature  and  constitution. 
From  what  has  been  said,  it  is  an  obvious  sequence  that  God  cannot 
be  eHminated  from  any  system  of  morality.  If  He  wills  all  that  His 
nature  requires.  He  must  will  all  truth,  all  justice,  all  right,  all 
morality.  If  we  set  aside  the  divine  will  in  these  things,  we  shall 
have  a  natural  morality  without  any  sanction,  any  binding  force 
but  the  reason  and  the  intellect  of  man.  This  is  the  assertion  of 
Kant's  autonomy  of  reason.  It  is  making  man  his  own  law-giver.  It 
is  establishing  all  distinctions  between  right  and  wrong  upon  the 
flimsy  foundation  of  man's  own  speculative  ideas,  without  reference 
to  any  external  authority  or  standard,  and  without  regard  to  the  con- 
sequences of  conduct,  beyond  the  reproach  of  reason  when  we  do 
amiss,  and  the  approval  of  reason  when  we  do  aright.  And  what  is 
this  but  the  deification  of  the  human  intellect  ?  It  is  precisely  the 
position  assumed  lately  by  the  arch-infidel,  Ingersoll,  when  he 
rejected  God,  and,  with  God,  the  idea  of  aU  reward  and  punish- 
ment, outside  of  those  dispensed  by  the  authority  of  reason.  Man 
must  do  right  for  right's  sake;  he  must  do  right  for  reason's  sake; 
but  he  must  also  do  right  for  God's  sake,  because  God  wills  the 
right,  and  the  obedience  man  renders  must  have  respect  to  his 
Maker.  Man  is  not  God.  Reason  is  not  the  law,  but  the  herald  of 
the  law.  Reason  cannot  give  law  to  reason,  and  without  law  there 
can  be  no  obligation  and  no  sin.  "  If  there  were  no  law  there  would 
be  no  sin,"  says  the  Apostle.  What  terror  would  it  bring  to  the 
evil-doer  to  teU  him  that  by  his  disorderly  deeds  he  has  outraged 


198 

Ms  reason  ?  What  restraint  upon  the  ebullitions  of  his  passion,  to 
say  that  he  has  made  himself  a  fool  ?  He  will  probably  reply,  that, 
if  he  chooses  so  to  do,  it  is  his  own  business.  On  the  supposition 
that  God  had  imposed  no  law  upon  rational  creatures,  there  would, 
indeed,  be  no  sin ;  but  God  could  not  withhold  His  command 
when  once  He  had  created.  He  had  to  bind  His  crea,tures  to  act 
out  the  natures  which  He  gave  them;  and  this  the  pagan  philoso- 
phers recognized  implicitly,  when  they  deemed  it  the  part  of 
prudence,  naturae  convenienter  vivere,  to  live  conformably  to  nature. 
If,  therefore,  we  believe  at  all  in  the  existence  of  a  moral  law,  this 
law  must  point  to  God  as  the  Law-giver  ;  and  when  the  law  is  viewed 
as  thus  appointed  by  the  Creator,  it  takes  definite  form  and  wears  a 
majestic  aspect.  He  that  contradicts  his  reason  may  render  himself 
a  fool,  but  he  that  violates  the  law  of  God  strikes  at  the  throne  of  the 
universe.  Nay,  when  God  is  thus  connected  with  the  law,  it  con- 
strains us  to  acknowledge  that  we  owe  to  Him  supreme  love  and 
obedience,  and  opens  to  us  a  new  and  higher  class  of  duties,  which 
reason,  as  the  ultimate  legislator,  never  could  enforce.  Upon  the 
acknowledgment  of  "God  as  the  moral  Governor  of  the  world,  our 
morality  goes  down  deeper,  mounts  higher,  and  teaches  us  to  have 
respect  in  all  our  actions  to  that  Almighty  Power  who  alone  can 
vindicate  the  majesty  of  violated  law.  If,  then,  we  cannot  success- 
fully teach  morality  without  reference  to  the  sanctions,  obligations, 
and  existence  of  the  law,  so  neither  can  we  teach  it  without  reference 
to  God,  and  such  reference  is  to  teach  religion. 

Again,  God  is  the  model  of  His  creation.  When  He  created  man 
it  was  upon  the  pattern  of  His  own  essence,  which,  in  a  finite  degree, 
is  imitable  outside  of  God.  Man  is  thus  a  faint  transcript  of  the 
Deity.  Man  was  fashioned  according  to  the  archetype  in  the  divine 
mind.  He  must  reflect  the  archetype.  Now,  although  the  arbitrary 
will  of  God  did  not  establish  the  essential  relations  of  things,  these 
relations  are,  nevertheless,  the  object  of  divine  volition,  for  God 
must  will  whatever  His  nature  requires.  And  as  man's  nature  is  a 
copy,  imperfect  though  it  be,  of  the  divine  Nature,  God  could 
not  create  man  to  act  in  contradiction  of  man's  nature,  any  more 
than  Infinite  Wisdom  could  make  truth  contradict  itself.  Neither 
could  He  create  man  without  giving  to  his  nature  certain  needs  and 
exigencies.     But  God  must  will  that  man  act  conformably  to  his 


199 

iLuman  nature,  or  according  to  the  reason  which  is  in  him,  which 
must  conform  to  the  divine  reason  which  is  in  God.  Hence  the 
very  needs  of  man's  nature  have  respect  to  the  will  of  God  in  all 
man's  human  or  moral  acts,  and  this  of  necessity  implies  religion, 
which  denotes  man's  relation  to  God.  To  suppose  God  quiescent 
or  indifferent  to  the  acts  of  His  creatures  would  be  the  acme  of 
folly. 

God  is  the  source  of  aU  power,  all  life,  aU  reality.  "  By  Him  all 
things  were  made,  and  without  Him  was  made  nothing  that  was 
made."  There  is  nothing  which  He  has  not  created;  nothing  which 
He  does  not  conserve;  nothing  which  does  or  can  take  place  with- 
out His  concurrence.  "  Nothing,"  says  St.  Augustine,  "  occurs  by 
chance.  God  overrules  aU."  God,  then,  must  concur  in  every 
human  act,  whether  it  be  good  or  evil.  But  it  would  be  a  libel 
upon  His  essential  sanctity  to  consider  Him  indifferent  as  to  the 
character  of  the  act  to  which  He  lends  His  concurrence.  "  Good 
and  evil,"  says  the  wise  man,  "  are  from  God."  But  infinite  Holi- 
ness cannot  will  the  evil,  though  God  concurs  in  the  physical  act. 
God  had  design  and  purpose  in  creating  free*  and  rational  exist- 
ences. That  design  was  His  external  glory.  The  end  of  man  is  the 
glory  of  God.  All  moral  acts,  then,  in  that  they  make  the  perfec- 
tion of  man,  must  tend  to  the  glory  of  his  Maker.  God  must,  indeed, 
will  the  co-operation  He  gives  to  His  creatures,  but  He  must  also 
wiU  to  bind  them  to  certain  lines  of  action,  which  are  so  consistent 
with  their  freedom,  as  they  are  conducive  to  the  great  ends  prede- 
termined in  the  sweet  dispositions  of  His  sovereign  will,  acting  out 
the  demands  of  the  divine  JNature.  How  absurd,  then,  to  talk  of 
teaching  morality  without  reference  to  God,  or  to  teach  morality 
without  religion ! 

Morality  is  that  science  which  teaches  man  what  befits  him  as 
man.  And  man  is  a  rational  creature.  Now,  what  becomes  a 
rational  creature  so  much  as  to  seek  the  attainment  of  its  ultimate 
end  ?  In  everything  it  does,  the  end  is  first  in  the  order  of  inten- 
tion, and  all  the  means  must  be  chosen  appropriately  to  the  end. 
This  principle  is  so  deep- set  in  rational  intelligence  that  men  act 
upon  it  almost  without  reflection,  for  the  end  and  the  means  are  cor- 
relative terms.  Now,  God,  who  is  the  ultimate  end  of  man,  teaches 
us  by  the  Hght  of  reason  that  He  wishes  the  observance  of  the  moral 


200 

order  by  us  as  the  necessary  condition  of  the  obtainment  of  our  end. 
And  He  that  appoints  the  end,  can  also  appoint  the  means  or  condi- 
tions. It  is  the  will  of  God,  then,  in  the  last  resort,  by  which  the 
will  of  man  must  be  determined  to  the  observance  of  the  natural 
order,  and  which  obhges  him  to  the  practice  of  that  morality  which 
reason  discovers  in  the  necessary  and  fundamental  relations  of 
things. 

Moreover,  if  it  is  the  province  of  moralit/ to  teach  man  what  be- 
comes man  as  man,  its  chief  concern  is  to  teach  man  his  duty.  The 
reality  of  God  and  the  responsibility  of  man  are  truths  of  mighty 
meaning  to  mankind.  The  doctrine  of  a  real,  living,  personal  God 
is  the  world's  great  tonic.  It  has  power  to  heal,  to  help,  and  to 
save.  Now,  if  there  is  a  God  at  all,  man  has  undoubtedly  some 
duties  towards  Him  of  prayer  and  praise.  And  if  the  moralist  as- 
sumes to  point  out  man's  duties,  he  surely  may  not  contemn  those 
grave  and  consequential  duties  which  relate  to  Him  who  holds  in 
His  hands  the  threads  of  human  destiny;  duties  upon  whose  proper 
discharge  depends  the  eternal  and  supreme  happiness  or  misery  of 
every  mortal  man.     And  this  is  to  teach  religion. 

Again,  whence  does  the  moral  law  derive  its  sanctions?  Not  from 
the  ordinance  of  reason,  for  reason  cannot  be  both  master  and  sub- 
ject. Not  from  the  authority  of  the  human  teacher;  he  is  but  a 
man.  The  conception  of  perfect  obligation  perforce  involves  the 
notion  of  a  superior  who  obliges,  just  as  it  supposes  one  that  is 
obliged.  Nay,  more;  it  imports  such  strenuous  binding  force  that 
if  the  action  enjoined  be  omitted,  or  if  that  forbidden  be  done, 
man's  destiny  will,  in  so  far,  be  frustrated,  and  he  will  be  guilty  of 
rebellion  or  insubordination  against  his  superior.  And  where  is  the 
superior  to  impose  such  obligation  upon  the  whole  human  race  ? 
Who  can  be  named  but  Him  who  is  the  Euler  and  Governor  of  all  ? 

Our  modern  moral  philosopher  prates  much  about  man's  perfecti- 
bility. Perfection  is  unquestionably  man's  goal.  Some  one  has 
said:  "We  are  made  by  God,  but  we  are  not  yet  finished."  The 
house  is  not  built  because  it  is  begun.  But  we  shall  not  attain  to 
the  perfection  of  our  being  until  we  are  in  possession  of  our  end. 
The  intellect  and  the  will,  our  great  capacities  for  knowledge  and 
love,  tend  towards  the  end  as  to  the  goal  of  perfection.  If,  then, 
man  attains  his  perfection  by  tending  towards  his  final  end,  and  by 


201 

avoiding  all  that  opposes  its  attainment,  or,  what  is  tantamount  lo 
that,  by  keeping  the  moral  law;  it  is  preposterous  to  suppose  that 
man's  chief  perfection  is  independent  of  the  Supreme  Being,  who  is 
the  Primal  Fount  and  Efficient  Cause  of  all  perfection.  God  is  our 
ultimate  end;  for,  as  St.  Thomas  says,  "  A  man's  desires  can  be  sat- 
isfied by  none  but  God  alone;  since  from  the  visible  things  of  cre- 
ation, he  is  moved  to  search  into  their  cause;  nor  is  that  desire  sat- 
isfied, till  he  comes  to  the  First  Cause,  which  is  God  "  (St.  Thorn. 
Quodl.  de  Virtute,  Art.  10). 

Some  German  philosophers  seem  passionately  fond  of  separating 
morality  and  religion,  being  either  inspired  by  the  hatred  of  religion 
or  misled  in  their  investigations  to  turn  aside  from  the  order  of  ob- 
jective reality,  and  to  seek  and  derive  all  moral  laws  from  within 
the  subject  solely.  In  their  systems  God  disappears  as  the  supreme 
principle  of  right,  and  is  relegated  outside  the  realm  of  morals. 
Others,  like  Kant,  make  practical  reason  the  fount  of  obligation,  and 
as  if  by  way  of  compensation  for  the  absence  of  divine  sanction  for 
the  moral  law,  admit  God  as  a  necessary  postulate  in  making  vii-tue 
consentaneous  with  its  reward.  But,  at  the  same  time,  he  holds 
that  morality,  per  se,  does  not  depend  upon  God;  and,  therefore,  in 
discussing  morals  in  the  natural  order,  it  is  unnecessary  to  define 
man's  duties  towards  the  Deity — in  fine,  he  proclaims  the  independ- 
ence of  morality  from  rehgion. 

The  celebrated  Cousin,  in  his  great  work,  the  "  History  of  Philos- 
ophy," makes  his  philosophical  morality,  or  natural  religion,  a  prod- 
uct of  the  human  mind.  Philosophy  is  the  last  and  highest  effort 
of  thought,  and  thought's  complete  development.  It  embraces  all, 
rules  all, — art,  science,  the  State,  industry,  and  religion.  God,  then, 
and  religion,  is  not  the  base,  but  the  apex  of  morality.  Religion 
does  not  make  morality,  but  morality  makes  religion.  **  Above  my 
VTJll,"  he  says  elsewhere,  "  there  is  no  cause  to  be  sought.  The 
principle  of  causality  expires  before  the  cause  in  the  will  ;  the  will 
causes,  it  is  not  itseK  caused"  (1st  Ser.,  Vol.  1,  p.  342).  If,  then, 
God,  the  Governor,  is  not  connected  with  the  human  will,  the  will 
lies  wholly  outside  the  field  of  moral  agency  and  responsibil- 
ity. 

But  if  religion  is  not  the  foundation  of  morality,  then  morality 
can  stand  without  it,  and  can  be  separated  from  religion.     In  this 


202 

case,  religion  is  only  an  ornament,  a  help,  the  reciprocal,  or  the 
product  of  reason. 

These  men  affect  not  to  deny  to  morality  a  real  and  absolute 
foundation;  but  this  foundation  is  no  other  than  impersonal  reason; 
reason  peculiar  to  no  man  in  particular,  and  the  same  in  all  men; 
reason  which  shines  forth  in  man,  but  which  excels  man  in  dignity 
and  authority.  Keason  is  thus  the  revelation,  not  only  of  abstract, 
theoretical  truths,  but  also  of  moral  laws,  and  true  obligation  arises 
from  quadrating  our  actions  with  the  precepts  which  reason  imposes. 

Others,  again,  seek  the  sanctions  of  morality  in  the  order  of  the 
universe,  which  reason  teaches  has  to  be  observed.  This  order 
points  to  God,  for  every  work  of  order  is  the  effect  of  an  intelligent 
cause.  This  order  is  an  expression  of  the  order  in  the  divine  mind, 
but  it  begets  obligation  without  considering  it  as  conserved  by  the 
mind  or  sanctioned  by  the  will  of  God.  Thus  morality  does  not  de- 
pend on  God. 

All  these  thinkers  admit  some  absolute  standard  of  right,  but  all 
err  in  this,  that  they  seek  it  outside  of  God.  If  there  is  any  such 
absolute  standard,  it  is  not,  and  cannot  be,  man,  nor  anything  in 
man,  unless  man  himself  be  an  absolute  being.  If  it  is  impersonal 
reason,  it  supposes  a  subject,  a  reasoner,  and  this  reasoner  must  be 
either  God  or  man.  If  it  is  God,  then  morality  depends  upon  Him. 
If  it  be  man,  then  man  must  be  absolute.  If,  in  fine,  it  be  the 
order  of  the  universe,  that  order,  without  mind  or  wiU,  is  an  airy 
abstraction. 

The  rights  of  God  in  respect  to  man's  moral  agency  and  account- 
ability are  founded  on  the  fact  of  creation.  God  has  absolute 
dominion  over  all.  Man  did  not  create  himself.  His  existence,  his 
origin,  all  suppose  the  contingent  character  of  his  being,  and  con- 
tingency supposes  a  First  and  Necessary  Cause,  who  is  God.  Moral 
order  springs  from  an  end,  a  purpose.  And  the  moral  government 
which  rules  the  universe  can  only  come  from  the  purpose  of  an  in- 
finite good,  namely,  God.  None  of  man's  relations,  duties,  obliga- 
tions, thoughts,  or  speculations  can  antecede  this  infinite  Being, 
"  Who  is  all  things  unto  us  and  we  are  unto  Him."  Morality,  then, 
cannot  be  sei^arated  from  God  ;  cannot  be  independent  of  God,  or 
of  religion.  Without  God  there  is  for  man  no  final  end,  no  law,  no 
right,  no  duty,  no  obligation,  and  no  morality. 


203 

Now,  we  humbly  conceive  that  we  have  demonstrably  proved  that 
it  is  impossible  to  teach  even  natural  morality,  as  Cousin  terms  it, 
without  reference  to  religion  and  to  God.  Even  the  necessary  and 
fundamental  truths  of  morality,  which  are  true  independently  of  the 
will  of  God,  have  respect  to  God,  and  their  sanctions  and  obligations 
flow  from  the  divine  will.  Some  pagan  philosophers  acknowledged 
the  obligation  of  law,  but  they  stopped  short  at  the  point  of  the 
principle  to  which  the  law  should  have  led  them.  Morality  can 
never  reach  its  full  organic  growth  unless  it  have  God  for  its  vital 
power.  When  men  seek  to  exclude  God  we  have  philanthropy  with- 
out charity,  urbanity  without  piety,  morality,  so-called,  without 
religion,  and  pharisaic  cant,  which  is  ever  straining  at  gnats  and  con- 
stantly swallowing  camels.  Ah !  if  the  hearts  of  men  were  only  filled 
with  the  pure  flame  of  the  love  of  God  as  the  aim  and  end  of  their 
actions,  the  Apostolic  injunction, — whether  we  eat  or  drink,  to  do  all 
for  God, — would  be  no  arduous  duty.  If  the  love  of  God  were  the 
motive  of  their  deeds,  every  office  would  become  exalted;  every  duty 
would  be  sanctified;  the  meanest  work  would  be  ennobled;  the  sacri- 
fice of  the  heart  would  not  be  cold  upon  the  altar  of  devotion  ;  the 
poor  would  be  like  unto  the  rich,  and  the  servant  would  kiss  the 
cheek  of  his  master.  ^ 

Conscience  leads  every  man  to  see  that  he  is  under  the  law  of  the 
God  who  made  him  and  who  made  the  universe.  Because  he  per- 
ceives that  he  is  the  child  of  law,  he  feels  the  consciousness  of  guilt 
when  he  becomes  a  transgressor.  To  men  who  are  shut  out  from 
the  light  of  revelation,  the  law  in  the  heart  is  the  arbiter;  for  "  those 
who  have  no  written  law  are  a  law  unto  themselves."  But  the  his- 
tory of  man  evinces  that  there  are  times  when  the  interior  monitor 
wanders  in  the  dark;  when  the  mind  is  so  perplexed  and  bewildered, 
that  it  fails  to  distinguish  between  the  path  of  rectitude  and  the 
road  to  ruin,  between  the  voice  of  virtue  and  duty  and  the  voice  of 
selfish  interest,  unruly  passion,  and  the  impetuous  sallies  of  a  corrupt 
and  fallen  nature,  No  wonder  that  the  pagan  sages  sometimes  ex- 
pressed their  longing  for  a  supernatural  revelation.  At  the  door  of 
death  Socrates  said  :  "  Now  it  is  time  to  depart ;  for  me  to  die,  for 
you  to  live;  but  which  for  greater  good,  God  only  knows."  The 
heart  naturally  cries  for  God.  Even  Moses  meekly  pleaded  :  "  O 
Lord,  show  me  Thy  face,  and  I  shall  be  saved."    And  we  beheve  the 


204 

deepest  conscience  in  the  breast  of  the  heathen  cried  aloud  for  some 
star  to  guide  them,  some  bright  light  to  illumine  their  solitary  way. 
Without  that  light  the  deepest  intellects  were  wildly  groping  in  the 
dark.  We  might  well  put  into  the  mouth  of  paganism's  proudest 
sages,  the  feeling  language  of  the  great  Cardinal  : 

"  Lead,  kindly  Light,  amid  the  encircling  gloom. 

Lead  Thou  me  on  ! 
The  night  is  dark,  and  I  am  far  from  home, 

Lead  Thou  me  on  ! 
Keep  Thou  my  feet  ;  I  do  not  ask  to  see 
The  distant  scene  ;  one  step  enough  for  me." 

But  how  vain  the  efforts  of  man  without  the  aid  of  revelation !  Look 
at  the  history  of  those  men,  those  peoples,  who,  destitute  of  that 
supernatural  light,  remained  for  thousands  of  years  either  ignorant, 
or  doubtful,  concerning  the  principal  truths  of  the  moral  order.  For, 
as  St.  Thomas  teaches,  such  conditions  are  required  that  men  by 
their  natural  powers  could  not  attain  to  the  possession  of  such  knowl- 
edge with  anything  like  certitude,  and  even  if  reason  were  powerful 
enough  to  teach  all  with  certainty  these  moral  truths,  still  it  could 
not,  when  left  to  its  unassislj^d  lights,  explain  just  how  God  was  to 
be  worshipped  ;  whether  sin  could  be  forgiven  ;  what  was  the  char- 
acter of  the  future  life  ;  was  death  only  a  sempiternal  sleep ;  what 
sanctions  belonged  to  the  law  of  nature,  and  many  additional  mys- 
teries bound  up  with  the  great  problem  of  life.  Nor  could  the  ig- 
norant learn  these  things  from  the  wise.  To  say  no  more,  their 
teaching  lacked  the  authority  which  purity  of  life  alone  can  confer. 
Their  most  shining  virtues  were  tinctured  by  the  grossest  vices,  and 
their  most  perfect  worship  by  the  most  debasing  superstitions.  The 
Germans  had  so  corrupted  their  conceptions  of  the  law  of  nature, 
that,  as  St.  Thomas  declares  in  his  Summa,  quoting  from  Caesar 
De  Bello  Gal.  (7.  2.  q.  94),  they  regarded  robbery  as  lawful,  and  had 
lost  the  distinction  between  "  meum  et  tuum."  Among  the  Greeks 
and  the  Romans  the  most  extravagant  fancies  ruled  the  minds  of  the 
most  sagacious.  One  conceived  it  to  be  the  end  of  life  to  follow  his 
passions.  Temples  consecrated  to  prostitution  flung  open  their 
doors  in  the  shining  light  of  day,  and  abominable  vices  were  deified 
and  reverenced  as  gods.     Ignorant  of  their  true  destiny,  and  stran- 


205 

gers  to  every  virtue,  some  considered  a  future  life  would  consist  in  a 
transmigration  of  souls,  or  in  the  voluptuous  enjoyments  of  a  carnal 
paradise.  Virtue,  indeed,  they  professed  to  respect,  but  how  seldom 
were  able  to  practice !  Philosophers,  they  called  themselves,  or 
lovers  of  wisdom,  but  even  Socrates  declared  that  there  was  no 
wisdom  among  them.  Anaxagoras  thought  that  all  things  were  en- 
veloped in  darkness,  and  Democritus  imagined  that  truth  was  buried 
so  deep  in  the  well  that  no  man  could  possibly  find  it.  Plato  wrote 
of  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  but  shed  no  light  upon  the  subject. 
"  Some,"  says  Cicero,  "  thought  there  were  gods  ;  others  denied  their 
existence;  and  still  others  confessed  themselves  doubtful."  Although 
they  had  reached  a  point  of  civilization  conspicuous  in  the  annals 
of  ages;  though  distinguished  in  the  pursuits  of  literature,  and  versed, 
with  a  skill  unsurpassed,  in  all  the  arts  and  the  sciences;  though  they 
have  left  behind  monuments  of  greatness  that  mock  the  fingers  of 
decay,  and  patterns  of  excellence  in  culture  that  shall  serve  as 
masterly  models  to  countless  generations  :  yet,  with  the  star  of 
reason  only  to  guide  them,  they  hopelessly  drifted  in  darkness;  they 
spent  their  lives  in  the  pursuit  of  pleasures  that  shamed  their  high- 
flown  philosophy  ;  they  embraced  vice  as  a  bridegroom,  and  blushed 
not  to  own  the  alliance  ;  and,  drinking  iniquity  like  water,  holding 
carnival  with  crime  and  coiTuption,  they  speedily  rushed  into  ruin, 
and  like  the  sun,  going  out  from  view  amidst  the  tempest's  clouds 
and  darkness,  ere  it  has  reached  its  meridian  splendor,  they  disappear- 
ed from  the  horizon  of  the  living  world,  and,  unlike  the  luminary  of 
day,  which  sinks  to  rise  again,  were  blotted  out  forever.  Such  is  the 
fruitlessness  of  the  attempt  to  practice  morality  without  religion. 
They  had  the  light  of  reason,  but  what  availed  it  to  them  ?  What 
far-sighted  sagacity,  what  a  high  reach  of  intelligence  they  exhibited 
in  war,  politics,  and  literature,  and  all  that  crowns  human  achieve- 
ments with  glory  in  the  eyes  of  the  world,  but  what  pitiful  weakness 
in  governing  their  passions,  and  ruling  their  lives  by  the  star-eyed 
philosophy  they  professed  to  call  from  the  skies.  "  Their  doctrine," 
says  Cicero,  "  they  made  an  ostentation  of  science,  and  not  a  law  for 
their  lives."  But,  perhaps,  they  followed  their  lights.  Would  we, 
who  bask  in  the  sunshine  of  revelation,  have  done  any  better  if  we 
had  been  in  their  place  ?  It  is  more  than  doubtful.  To  some  it 
seems  strange  that  for  so  many  thousands  of  years  God  shut  up  His 


206 

truth  in  one  little  corner  of  the  world  ;  that  He  deigned  to  show 
His  face  at  capricious  intervals  to  a  few  favorite  tribes  among  all  the 
peoples  of  the  earth.  It  seems  strange  to  them  that  God,  who  took 
such  pains  in  creating  man,  and  creating  him  especially  with  an 
almost  infinite  capacity  to  know,  and  an  insatiable  longing  to  possess 
the  truth,  should  not  have  given  him  a  wider  and  fuller  grasp  of  that 
knowledge  which  alone  could  make  existence  a  boon.  It  is  beyond 
our  scope  to  touch  on  the  penalties  of  sin,  any  more  than  has 
hitherto  been  done.  But  we  know  the  stab  of  the  sword  of  sin 
pierced  mankind  to  the  core  ;  that  earth  herself  "  felt  the  wound, 
and  trembling  through  all  her  parts,  gave  signs  of  woe."  And  yet 
we  know,  for  the  Apostle  tells  us  so,  they  were  not  inexcusable, 
because  from  the  invisible  things  He  created  they  would  not  recog- 
nize the  Creator.  "Professing  themselves  to  be  wise  they  became 
fools,"  and  *'  they  changed  the  likeness  of  the  incorruptible  God 
into  the  corruptible  likeness  of  birds  and  beasts,  and  nearly  every 
creeping  thing  upon  the  earth."  In  fine,  they  professed  to  practice 
morality  without  natural  religion,  and,  says  Chrysostom,  "  they  were 
given  over  to  the  devil  to  that  degree,  that  when  their  teachers 
uttered  anything  false  or  corrupt,  they  believed  and  applauded 
th^pm  ;  but  when  anything  true  chanced  to  be  spoken,  it  was  met 
with  doubt  and  denial." 

If,  then,  as  the  history  of  the  world  shows,  men  vainly  seek  for 
morality  and  virtue  by  the  dim  and  uncertain  liglits  of  nature;  and 
if,  supposing  them  acquainted  with  the  theory,  they  could  not  re- 
duce it  to  practice,  it  is  evident  they  stand  in  need  of  assistance  far 
more  powerful  than  any  that  nature  afforded.  We  may,  then,  affirm 
that  to  know,  as  well  as  to  practice,  the  truths  of  morality,  super- 
natural help  was  essential.  It  is  true,  as  the  Vatican  Council  de- 
clares, that  man's  rational  powers  can  carry  him  to  a  knowledge  of 
the  existence  of  God.  It  is  true,  as  Cardinal  Newman  pronounces 
upon  historical  inference,  that  all  the  elements  of  a  religious  system, 
including  conscience,  the  presentiment  of  a  future  life  and  judgment, 
the  relations  between  moral  conduct  and  happiness,  remorse  and 
apprehension  of  evil  following  the  transgression  of  conscience,  were 
by  no  means  impossible  to  Heathen  Philosophy  (University  Ser- 
mons, p  23);  but  so  unsteady,  uncertain,  and  vague  were  the  in- 
ward lights  of  the  mind;  so  inefficient  the  sanctions  of  laws  discov- 


207 

ered  by  observing  the  pbenomena  of  consciousness;  so  strong  the 
inclinations  of  the  flesh  to  weigh  down  all  the  higher  inspirations  of 
nature;  so  weak  the  incentive  duty  without  some  word  of  command 
from  the  Law-giver — without,  in  fine,  some  clear  token  of  a  Hving, 
personal  God,  that  life  seemed  to  them  a  perplexing  and  wearisome 
chase  after  some  ignis  fatuus,  some  ghostly  phantom,  which,  as  if 
under  the  spell  of  a  magician's  wand,  eluded  the  grasp  whenever  it 
seemed  close  to  reach.  There  is  no  occasion  to  marvel,  then,  that 
the  Pagan  Stoic,  as  he  committed  suicide,  complained  that  he  had 
worshipped  virtue,  and  had  found  it  but  an  empty  name.  Without 
those  peculiar  lights  and  gifts — blessings  of  which  revelation  is  the 
bearer  to  mankind, — men  have  always  plunged  into  various  forms 
of  error;  superstition  ruled  theii-  minds;  either  the  egotism  of  self, 
or  the  emptiness  of  creatures,  formed  the  object  of  their  worship, 
and  except  where  some  faint  traces  of  primitive  revelation  lingered 
among  them,  they  were  the  prey  of  every  idle  fancy,  every  vague 
fear,  every  vice  and  error,  that  the  human  mind  can  imagine,  or  the 
heart  of  man  embrace.  And,  if  here  and  there  some  superior  intel- 
lects among  them  could  divinely  talk  of  the  splendor  of  truth,  the 
beauty  of  vii'tue,  and  the  excellence  of  philosophic  composure  under 
trials  and  disappointments;  upon  mankind  in  the  gross,  their  doc- 
trines made  no  impression,  for  their  lives  belied  their  teachings; 
nor  could  the  mass  of  men  attain  to  the  knowledge  of  the  moral  law 
in  its  esseutial  fullness,  for  we  know  it  to  be  impossible,  apai*t  from 
divine  revelation,  for  all  men  to  acquire  knowledge  of  all  tniths  of 
the  moral  law;  and  assuredly  it  is  impoiiant  that  all  should  be 
known  and  practiced.  It  seems  clear,  then,  that  supernatural  revela- 
tion is  indispensable  to  mankind  for  the  proper  observance  of  the 
moral  order,  and  if  so,  it  is  impossible  to  teach  morality  without  in- 
culcating religion.  And  cut  o5f  from  the  light  thus  divinely  com- 
municated unto  men,  we  behold  men  all  at  variance  as  to  the  most 
simple  and  obvious  obligations.  If,  however,  as  Mr.  Savage  says, 
"these  truths  are  certain,  evident,  and  admitted  by  all,"  whence 
came  it  that  the  lofty  genius  and  penetrating  mind  of  the  heathen 
sages  could  not  agree  upon  either  their  meaning  or  their  applica- 
tion ?  "  In  what  does  virtue  consist,  what  is  its  essence  and  attri- 
butes ?  "  they  cried  in  vain.  "  What  is  duty,  what  is  right,  who  can 
show  us  any  good  ?  "  they  asked  despairingly. 


208 

Some  regarded  virtue  as  a  fine,  subtle  quality,  mentally  grasped 
by  intuition,  but  too  intangible  to  be  capable  of  definition.  Some 
deemed  it  utility,  which,  in  modern  phrase,  signifies  no  more  than  to 
"  look  out  for  number  one."  It  is  the  essence  of  egotism  and  selfish- 
ness, and  supposes  as  true  the  theory  of  Hobbes,  that  man,  whether 
savage  or  civilized,  lives  in  perpetual  warfare  with  the  rest  of  his 
brethren.  Others  placed  virtue  in  its  highest  form,  in  the  exercise 
of  benevolence,  which  was  only  another  name  for  ostentation  and 
vanity.  Some  thought  virtue  consisted  solely  in  justice,  and  defined 
it  in  similar  terms,  as  the  constans  et  perpetua  voluntas  jus  suum  cuique 
tribuendi,—th.e  invariable  disposition  of  the  will  to  render  to  every 
man  his  own.  They  could  not  see,  that,  though  benevolence  is 
virtue,  virtue  is  more  than  benevolence;  more  than  utility;- more 
than  compassion  or  pity;  more  than  sentiment  or  emotion;  and 
more  even  than  justice,  which,  however,  is  an  essential  and  basic 
element. 

Freedom  and  law  are  the  fundamental  franchises  of  the  human 
mind  and  will.  The  first  makes  our  actions  those  of  a  voluntary 
agent,  and  the  relations  of  those  actions  to  law,  make  them  those 
of  a  just,  lawful,  meritorious,  moral  agent.  Analyze  our  actions 
as  we  may,  if  they  are  to  take  on  the  quality  of  virtue,  we  can- 
not do  away  with  a  rule  of  action,  outside,  above,  superior  to  the 
mind,  independent  of  it,  though  having  absolute  authority  over  it. 
There  is  an  eternal  fitness  in  virtue.  The  seemliness  and  propriety 
of  our  conduct  arises  not  from  the  fact  that  it  is  congruent  with  our 
will  or  our  thought;  but  from  its  relation  to  the  will  and  thought  of 
Him  who  alone  can  wake  the  conscience,  kindle  love,  vitalize  virtue, 
and  present  to  mankind  a  pattern,  which,  to  imitate,  is  to  cultivate 
morality.  Apart  from  Him,  the  loftiest  pretensions  of  human  virtue 
are  a  chimera  and  a  sham;  apart  from  Him,  all  man's  efforts  droop 
and  pine,  like  a  poor  flower  that  never  sees  the  light,  and  a  sickly 
herb  that  never  feels  the  sun.  Man  must  always  act,  not  from  an  in- 
terior motive  originating  and  terminating  either  in  himself  or  in  his 
fellow-men,  but  from  the  high  principle  of  regard  to  the  Beneficent 
Being  who  made  him;  that  Being  against  whom  His  creatures  have 
no  rights,  but  only  duties.  Even  justice  without  God  cannot  be 
justice.  Justice,  says  Justinian,  gives  to  every  man  his  due.  But 
what  we  owe  to  our  fellow-beings  is  of  God's  ordaining.     Morality, 


209 

some  tell  us,  concerns  this  life,  and  is  justice  and  right  towards  our 
fellow-men.     But  why  have  men  any  duties  towards  their  fellow- 
men  ?     I  am  as  good  as  my  neighbor.     Man  is  the  equal  of  man. 
And  if  man  has  duties  towards  his  fellows,  it  is  because  those  duties 
have  been  imposed  by  a  higher  and  superior  will — the  will  of  God. 
Now,  although  the  natural  sense  of  right  and  justice,  which,  in 
greater  or  less  degree,  is  created  by  the  conscience  within  us,  may 
enlighten  us  on  many  points  in  reference  to  our  duty,  it  never  can 
adequately  explain,  and  still  less  enforce,  the  fulfillment  of   these 
duties  which  it  is  incumbent  on  us  to  discharge  towards  society. 
Tor  this  the  voice  of  God  or  supernatural  revelation  is  necessary. 
If  the  deepest  thinkers  have  not  been  able  to  agree  upon  the  defi- 
nition of  viiiue,  or  have  considered  it  so  elementary  as  to  be  incapa- 
ble of  definition;  if  the  great  sages  of  antiquity,  who  worshipped 
only  an  unknown  God,  felt  their  hearts  fail  within  them  lest  they 
might  be  following  a  shadow,  how  can  modern  wiseacres  construct 
a  system  of  morahty  that  shall  be  independent  of  religion  ?     A  code 
of  morality  fashioned  without  religion  is  a  moral  impossibility  and 
&  metaphysical  absurdity.     And  yet  they  say  it  is  a  matter  of  as 
much  facility  to  devise  such  a  code  as  it  is  to  frame  a  system  of 
mathematics.     But   even   numbers  which  do  not  include  essential 
Unity,  and  God  the  prime  Factor,  have  no  basis  of  enumeration. 
All  the  efforts  of  man  to  estabhsh  such  a  code  have  invariably  ended 
in  failui'e;  or  if,  perchance,  owing  to  the  straggling  rays  of  revela- 
tion which  came  down  to  them,  men  have  been  able  to  incorporate 
some  truth  in  their  systems,  they  at  best  presented  us  with  an  im- 
perfect and  mutilated  exhibition  of  the  moral  law.      Such  is  the 
goodness  of  God,  that  even  when  men  had  shattered  their  moral 
constitution  by  sin,  and  had  turned  away  from  Him  to  embrace 
graven  images.  He  did  not  wholly  desert  them,  but  left  them  some 
faint  glimmerings  of  light  by  which  they  might  find  their  way  back 
to  Him  who  is  the  Light  of  the  world.    For  this  reason  it  may  well  be 
doubted,  as  Card.  Newman  intimates,  whether  in  strict  meaning,  or 
historically,  there  be  any  such  thing  as  natural  rehgion.     No  religion, 
as  he  says,  was  ever  yet  formed  by  unaided  reason.     There  has  never 
been  a  time  or  country  in  which  reason  was  entirely  bereft  of  aid, 
and  the  revelations  made  to  the  first  and  earliest  recipients  concern- 
ing the  nature  of  God  and  the  duty  of  man,  shot  rays  of  hght  into 
14 


210 

those  places  which  elsewise  had  remained  buried  in  profound 
obscurity  upon  the  most  fragmentary  truths  of  the  moral  govern- 
ance of  the  world. 

But  on  the  hypothesis  of  man's  elevation  to  a  supernatural  state, 
how  could  man  qualify  himself  for  the  attainment  of  the  happiness 
consequent  upon  his  high  destiny  without  the  aid  of  supernatural 
revelation?  Nothing  that  he  could  do,  no  morality  that  he  could 
practice,  could  befit  him  for  such  state.  It  exceeded  all  the  capaci- 
ties as  it  did  the  requirements  of  his  nature.  Without  the  light  of 
revelation  he  could  not  even  know  of  its  existence,  and  he  could  not 
tend  towards  an  end  of  which  he  was  wholly  ignorant.  There  can 
be  no  desire  of  the  unknown.  And  as  it  is  the  office  of  morality  to 
show  to  man  the  end  of  his  existence,  and  to  so  direct  his  free  acts 
that  they  may  all  conduce  to  the  acquisition  of  the  end,  it  is,  in  the 
nature  of  the  case,  impossible  for  man  to  work  out  his  supernatural 
destiny  without  the  aid  of  revelation  By  revelation  God  speaks  to 
man.  He  unfolds  to  His  creatures  the  divine  economy  of  salvation. 
His  truth.  His  goodness.  His  holiness.  His  beauty  are  laid  bare  to 
man.  The  whole  programme  of  man's  duties  is  drawn  out  in  obvious 
characters,  so  that  he  who  runs  may  read.  The  small,  still  voice  in 
the  heart  swells  into  the  loud  thunders  of  Sinai.  Light  flashes  on 
the  Gentiles  and  glory  on  God's  people.  Their  ideas  of  duty,  of 
destiny,  and  God  are  brightened  and  illumined.  Finally,  through 
the  full  manifestation  of  the  Godhead  in  a  being  of  our  species, 
the  pattern  of  God's  own  Son,  the  exemplar  of  all  virtue  and 
morality,  is  set  before  us;  and  the  unparalleled  life  of  Him  who  trod 
the  hills  and  valleys  of  Judea  nineteen  centuries  ago  casts  a  spell 
upon  our  hearts,  and  we  seem  to  see,  to  hear,  to  feel,  and  touch 
Him  who  alone  has  authority  to  lead  and  skill  to  guide  us,  "always 
-sensibly  present,  as  it  were,  by  voice,  look,  and  gesture,"  to  encourage 
us  upon  our  journey,  or  to  reprove  us  for  our  delay.  And  we  can 
have  no  other  morality  than  that  which  He  has  declared  unto  us. 
Men  to-day,  as  they  always  did,  will  want  to  burn  incense  to  Baal. 
They  will  want  to  worship  Him  in  their  own  way,  but  He  will 
answer,  "My  ways  are  not  your  ways."  They  that  want  to  worship 
Him  must  not  worship  Him  against  His  will.  They  that  want  to 
light  a  sacred  fire  must  not  burn  the  house  of  God.  Man  can  never 
build  morality  by  uprooting  the  foundations  of  religion. 


211 

But  if  morality  cannot  be  taught  without  revelation,  it  cannot  be 
taught  without  the  teaching  authority  of  the  Catholic  Church. 
For  this  she  has  a  divine  guidance,  not  only  in  matters  revealed, 
but  also  in  those  opposed  to  revelation.  Nor  could  she  other- 
wise discharge  her  commission  as  the  teacher  of  the  nations. 
She  must  have  authority  and  capacity  to  proscribe  doctrines  at 
variance  with  the  Word  of  God  (Card.  Manning,  Prv.  Petri ,  Sev. 
m.,  p.  66,  seq.).  She  is  not  only  the  teacher,  but  the  witness 
and  judge  of  revelation.  There  is  no  superior,  nor  even  co-or'dinate 
witness  to  amend,  revise,  or  alter  in  any  way  the  judgment  which 
she  pronounces.  To  any  one  who  seeks  to  interfere  with  her  she 
can  say:  "Who  ai-t  thou,  that  thou  judgest  another  man's  serv- 
ant ?  To  his  own  master  he  standeth  or  falleth."  Those  teachers 
who  aim  at  the  complete  secularization  of  education  are  inspired  by 
the  same  spirit  that  animated  the  sixteenth  century  reformers,  or 
they  are  the  unblushing  advocates  of  infidelity.  The  rejection  of 
the  authority  of  the  Church  by  those  who  uphold  the  sovereignty 
of  private  judgment,  is  the  lawful  fruit  of  the  reformation;  and 
most  of  those  who  to-day  want  to  secularize  instruction,  desu*e  to  do 
so  just  because  the  Church  would  have  education  religious.  And 
religious  it  must  remain.  There  can  be  no  compromise,  no  half- 
way measures,  here.  It  was  to  impart  a  religious  education  that  she 
always  claimed  and  exercised  the  right  to  found  Christian  schools 
for  the  instruction  of  her  children.  Her  zeal  in  this  holy  cause  is 
unexampled  in  history.  Long  before  the  contest  between  the  Em- 
pire and  Papacy  had  paralyzed  her  efforts  and  narrowed  her  field  of 
operation,  she  was  the  teacher  of  both  nations  and  individuals  She 
was  the  educator  of  the  world.  Kings  bowed  before  her,  and  mon- 
archs  received  the  law  from  her  hands.  Neither  Canterbury  nor  Con- 
stantinople, neither  Mecca  nor  Moscow,  spoke  with  a  voice  like  that 
of  Rome.  Long  before  the  Reformers  sought  to  rend  the  seamless 
coat  of  Christ,  she  dispensed  the  blessings  of  learning  throughout 
the  world.  Her  divine  organization  gave  her  the  right  to  teach; 
and  she  knew  that  the  right  gave  her  a  title  to  the  means,  and  made 
it  her  essential  faculty  to  found  schools  for  the  dissemination  of 
knowledge.  Of  the  great  universities  that  sprang  up  in  Italy, 
Spain,  France,  Germany,  and  the  British  Isles,  she  was  the  foundress 
and  promoter.     Her  fostering  care  gave  rise  to  those  far-famed  in- 


212 

stitutions  of  learning  whose  renown  is  imperishable.  Naples,  York, 
Paris,  Cambridge,  Bologna,  Oxford,  Padua,  Salamanca,  Perugia, 
Valladolid,  Saragossa,  Seville,  and  Rheims,  were  the  product  of  her 
divine  genius  and  invincible  love  of  learning.  It  is  true,  her  hands 
were  sometimes  upheld  by  the  civil  authority,  but  that  was  in  days 
when  secular  rulers  had  not  grown  ashamed  of  their  faith,  nor  jeal- 
ous of  Peter's  supremacy.  Dr.  Bouquillon,  the  eminent  theolo- 
gian, thinks  Charlemagne  would  suffer  surprise  if  he  were  told  he 
had  not  the  right  to  found  schools.  But  it  is  worth  remember- 
ing that  the  emperors  were  accustomed  to  act,  not  only  by  the 
solicitation,  but  even  by  the  command  of  the  Church.  The  chief 
purpose  of  Charlemagne  in  founding  schools  was  the  formation  of  a 
learned  and  efficient  body  of  the  clergy  (Alzog.  Ch.  Hist.,  Vol.  11.,  p. 
173).  And  thus  the  sixth  Council  of  Paris  requested  the  Emperor 
Louis  to  found  three  public  schools  in  his  empire,  "  that  the  labor  of 
his  father  may  not,  by  their  neglect,  come  to  be  in  vain,  that  the 
holy  Church  of  God  may  gain  honor  and  the  Emperor  an  eternal 
memory."  In  council  and  synod,  notably  those  of  Valence,  May- 
ence,  Paris,  Orleans,  Rome  (826),  Toledo,  Lateran  III.  (1179),  and 
Trent,  the  Church  lifted  her  voice  to  invoke  Bishops  and  Princes  to 
provide  for  the  support  of  schools,  "  that  on  all  sides  public  schools 
may  be  constituted  for  both  kinds  of  erudition,  both  divine  and 
human."  The  custom  of  paying  Rome- Scot,  or  Peter's  pence,  had 
its  origin  in  the  effort  to  establish  foreign  schools  at  Rome.  All  cast 
their  glances  towards  the  city  on  the  seven  hills  as  the  seat  of  learn- 
ing and  the  source  of  piety.  And  in  virtue  of  her  sanction  and  en- 
couragement, the  State  seemed  to  vie  with  the  Church  in  the  ex- 
tension of  educational  facilities,  as  would  seem  to  be  the  case  in 
view  of  the  prodigious  activity  of  Eugene  11.  and  Lothaire  I.  in 
founding  and  fostering  schools.  If  any  modern  educator  thinks 
that  free  public  schools  were  not  founded  till  the  Pilgrim  Fathers  or 
Horace  Mann  engaged  in  the  enterprise,  let  him  look  at  the  history 
of  the  Catholic  Church  from  the  fifth  to  the  fifteenth  centuries.  He 
will  behold  her  great  religious  orders,  Benedictines,  Dominicans, 
Franciscans,  and  finally,  the  noblest  of  them  all,  the  Jesuits,  going 
forth  to  dispel  ignorance,  to  hold  aloft  the  lamp  of  learning  and  en- 
lighten them  that  sat  in  darkness.  The  synod  of  Aries  (800)  decreed 
that  parish  priests  should  have  schools  in  towns  and  villages  where 


213 

the  little  children  might  learn  the  letters  from  them,  without  requir- 
ing any  remuneration  other  than  might  be  offered  voluntarily  by  the 
parents.  The  Emperor  Lothaire  ordained  that  eight  public  schools 
should  be  founded,  in  the  chief  cities  of  Italy,  "  in  order  that  oppor- 
tunity may  be  given  to  all,  and  that  there  may  be  no  excuse  drawn 
from  poverty  or  the  difficulty  of  repairing  to  remote  places."* 
Theodulph,  Bishop  of  Orleans,  established  primary  schools  through- 
out the  chief  towns  of  his  diocese,  as  early  as  the  year  821,  and  his 
example  was  followed  by  many  others  in  the  Carlovingian  Empire. 
Upon  every  hillside  and  in  every  valley  arose,  like  bright  stars  of 
the  morning,  temples  of  profane  and  sacred  knowledge  to  flash  light 
on  the  so-called  "  Dark  Ages."  Episcopal  schools,  cathedi'al  schools, 
parochial  catechetical  schools,  Palatine  schools,  parochial  grammar 
schools,  high  schools,  and  academies,  like  those  of  Fulda,  St.  Gall, 
Milan,  Tours,  and  others;  colleges  and  universities,  where  from  the 
simplest  rudiments  of  knowledge  to  the  seven  liberal  arts,  defined  by 
John  of  Salisbury  as  the  Trimum,  comprising  grammar,  logic,  and 
rhetoric,  and  the  Quadr^ium,  comprehending  music,  arithmetic, 
geometry,  and  astronomy,  and  yet  to  the  higher  branches  of  the- 
ology, medicine,  civil  and  canon  law,  and  the  oriental  languages, 
with  Greek,  Hebrew,  and  Arabic  included,  were  established,  and  the 
scholar  conducted  through  a  course  which  often  extended,  rftt 
reckoning  his  primary  education,  over  a  period  of  twenty  years, 
subsequently  reduced,  as  Card.  Newman  says,  to  ten  (Office  and 
Work  of  Universities,  p.  328).  But  it  was  upon  primary  education 
her  weightiest  cares  were  bestowed.  To  train  them  to  piety  and 
virtue  from  their  tenderest  years,  was  the  absorbing  purpose  of  her 
life.  She  knew  how  small  a  part  of  education  is  the  attainment  of 
knowledge,  and  that  not  he  who  knows  much,  but  he  who  knows 
rightly,  can  be  called  truly  educated.  Never  did  her  love  for  them 
grow  cold,  nor  her  affectionate  regard  decline.  Sinite  parvulos 
vsnire  ad  me,  was  spoken  in  the  gracious  school  of  Christ.  And  the 
Church  called  the  little  children  to  her  side,  that,  from  the  earliest 
intimations  of  reason,  she  might  pour  into  their  fresh,  receptive 
hearts  those  lessons  of  divine  wisdom  which  alone  could  fit  them  for 
the  felicity  of  a  life,  where  all  who  enter  must  become  even  as 
little  children.      "Unless  ye  become  as  little   children,  ye  cannot 

♦Mores  Catholici,  Vol.  I.,  B.  II.,  p.  891. 


214 

enter  the  kingdom  of  heaven."  Therefore  it  was  that  she  withdrew 
them  from  the  turmoil  and  noise  of  the  world  into  her  monastery 
schools,  where,  retired  from  the  distractions  and  temptations  that 
surround  the  lives  of  those  unsheltered  from  the  seductions  and 
vanities  of  mundane  employments,  she  might  prepare  them  for  the 
joys  of  eternity.  Her  discipline  was  mild,  gentle,  yet  effective;  her 
watchfulness  was  constant  and  untiring;  her  influence  was  irresist- 
ible in  training  them  for  the  discharge  of  those  duties  which  quali- 
fied them  to  serve  their  country  and  their  God.  Ah  !  those  were 
happy  days.  Happy  days  in  those  medieval  schools,  where  the 
young  student  went  forth  for  his  matutinal  exercise,  as  the  dawn 
streaked  the  morning  sky,  to  listen  to  the  carol  of  half-awakened  birds 
in  the  green  groves  he  wandered  through,  to  behold  the  reflection 
of  the  great  Creator  in  the  crijason  blush  of  sunrise,  and  to  leai*n 
the  beauty  and  splendor  of  the  Maker  from  the  glorious  works  of 
His  creation.  Thus  all  their  education  talked  to  them  of  God.  Their 
earliest  impressions  and  germinal  ideas  were  all  directed  to  their 
God.  The  teachers  of  those  times  were  deeply  imbued  with  the  im- 
portance of  the  child's  earliest  training.  A  celebrated  woman  once 
said,  *'If  I  were  to  have  the  direction  of  a  man's  life  who  would  live 
to  the  age  of  sixty,  give  me  the  first  ten,  and  I  can  vouch  for  the 
otler  fifty."  The  Church  knows  full  well  the  force  of  the  statement, 
and  at  every  period  of  her  history,  she  has  considered  it  her  highest, 
her  paramount  duty  to  provide  for  the  teaching  of  the  young. 
"  Train  up  the  child  in  the  way  he  should  go  when  he  is  young,  and 
when  he  is  old  he  will  not  depart  therefrom."  Never  did  the  tutors 
of  the  ages  of  Faith  think  of  separating  religion  from  the  instruction 
of  the  child.  Said  Alcuin  to  Charlemagne:  ''I  apply  myself  to 
minister  to  some  under  the  roof  of  St.  Martin  the  honey  of  the  holy 
Scriptures.  Others  I  endeavor  to  inebriate  with  the  old  wine  of  an- 
cient learning;  others  I  begin  to  nourish  with  the  apples  of  gram- 
matic  subtlety.  Some  I  try  to  illuminate  in  the  science  of  the  stars, 
as  if  of  the  painted  canopy  of  some  great  house.  1  am  made  many 
things  to  many  persons,  that  I  may  edify  as  many  as  possible  to  the 
honor  of  the  holy  Church  of  God,  and  to  the  advantage  of  your  im- 
perial kingdom"  (Mores  Catholici,  Vol.  I.,  B.  HI.,  p.  290).  There 
we  have  it  all  in  a  word — the  good  Christian  and  the  good  citizen. 
Nor  can  a  man  be  loyal  to  his  king  who  is  not  loyal  to  his  God. 
Beligion  and  patriotism  are  inseparable. 


215 

"The  child  is  father  to  the  man."  The  children  that  now  prattle 
around  our  knees  will  soon  crowd  us  from  the  scene  and  assume  our 
plaee.  If  it  is  important  that  peace  and  prosperity  should  pervade 
the  land;  if  it  is  important  that  harmony,  serenity,  and  love  should 
bless  their  homes  and  firesides;  if  it  is  important  that  they  should 
grow  up  as  men  of  well-poised  character,  meek  and  patient,  able 
under  all  circumstances  to  rule  well  the  kingdom  of  their  souls;  if  it 
is  important  that  virtue  should  adorn  their  lives,  and  morality  shine 
forth  in  their  actions  ;  that  their  manners  and  tempers  should  be 
gentle  as  twilight  of  summer,  sweet  as  the  breath  of  spring,  and 
grateful  as  the  voice  of  a  melody;  if,  in  fine,  it  is  important  that 
their  social  life  should  be  a  s.mctuary  of  peace,  their  domestic  life  a 
dwelling-place  of  love,  and  that  their  existence  here  below  should  be 
but  a  preparation  for  the  better  life  to  come;  then,  indeed,  it  is  im- 
poi-tant  that  their  early  education  should  be  judiciously  conducted 
under  the  influence  of  example  and  precept;  it  is  important  that 
their  moral  nature  should  be  developed  by  actual  exercise,  for  the 
love  of  right  doing  is  cultivated  by  right-doing;  it  is  important  that 
the  first  and  the  last  lesson  in  nursery  and  school-room  should  be  to 
reduce  religion  to  a  living  principle  of  action,  a  rooted  habit  in  the 
youthful  mind;  then  it  is  important  that  parents  and  teachers  should 
unremittingly  seek  to  instil  the  doctrines  of  faith  deep  in  the  fibres 
of  theii'  souls,  and,  whatever  else  may  be  taught,  to  educate  them  in 
the  knowledge  and  service  of  the  God  of  their  salvation. 

"  And  such  is  man — a  soil  which  breeds 
Or  sweetest  flowers,  or  vilest  weeds  ; 
Flowers  lovely  as  the  morning's  light, 
Weeds  deadly  as  an  aconite  ; 
Just  as  his  heart  is  trained  to  bear 
The  poisoned  weed  or  floweret  fair." 

Ah  !  who  understands  this  better  than  that  Holy  Mother  who  has 
educated  the  children  of  the  nations !  For  this  reason,  she  has,  at 
great  cost  and  p  lins,  and  in  some  countries,  against  fearful  odds, 
builded  and  maintained  those  elementary,  or  primary,  schools  in 
which  Catholic  children  might,  from  their  very  earliest  years,  be  in- 
structed in  those  doctrines  and  exercised  in  those  practices  of 
religion,  which,  whatever  betide  them  in  this  world,  alone  can  yield 
any  security  of  salvation  in  the  next.     With  this  end  in  view,  Pius 


216 

IX.,  of  immortal  memory,  emphatically  declared  that  in  such  schools, 
"  above  all,  the  children  of  the  people  ought  to  be  carefully  taught 
from  their  tender  years  the  mysteries  and  precepts  of  our  holy  re- 
ligion, and  trained  with  diligence  to  piety,  good  morals,  religion,  and 
civilization.  In  such  schools  religious  teaching  ought  to  have  so 
leading  a  place  in  all  that  concerns  education  and  instruction,  that 
whatever  else  the  children  may  learn  should  appear  subsidiary  to  it. 
The  young,  therefore,  are  exposed  to  the  greatest  perils  whenever,  in 
the  schools,  education  is  not  closely  united  with  religious  teaching. 
Wherefore,  since  primary  schools  are  established  chiefly  to  give  the 
people  a  religious  education,  and  to  lead  them  to  piety  and  Christian 
morality,  they  have  justly  attracted  to  themselves,  in  a  greater  degree 
than  other  educational  institutions,  all  the  care,  solicitude,  and 
vigilance  of  the  Church."  From  these  luminous  words,  uttered  by 
a  sovereign  Pontiff  of  the  Church,  the  following  propositions  are 
evidently  taken  to  have  all  the  force  of  axioms  :  First,  that  education 
is  primarily  and  chiefly  religious;  secondly,  that  every  other  phase 
of  education  must  be  subordinate  to  the  religious  element;  thirdly, 
that  education  begins  with  the  child's  tenderest  years,  and  that 
these  years  are  of  supreme  importance;  fourthly,  that  children  from 
their  earliest  years  must  be  trained  to  piety,  virtue,  and  religion; 
fifthly,  that  the  chief  end  of  primary  schools  is  to  give  people  a  re- 
ligious education;  and  sixthly,  that  for  these  several  reasons  the 
primary  schools  have  called  forth  the  care,  solicitude,  and  vigilance 
of  the  Church  of  Christ. 

If  the  above  propositions  admit  neither  of  doubt  nor  denial,  for  sure- 
ly no  Catholic  will  so  far  sin  against  his  judgment  as  to  challenge  them, 
it  may  not  be  irrelevant  to  ask  what  becomes  of  those  accommodating 
systems  which  make  of  religion  only  the  tattered  tail  of  the  educa- 
tional kite?  Pius  IX.  says  religion  holds  the  chief  place;  the  ac- 
commodating genius  of  the  hour  says  religion  holds  the  second. 
Vulgar  comparisons  are  not  to  our  taste,  but  is  not  this  that  peculiar 
inversion  of  cause  and  effect  which  demands  that  the  tail  should 
wag  the  dog  ?  It  seems  we  have  gone  woefully  wrong-headed  since 
the  day  our  fathers,  in  spite  of  their  poverty  and  fogyism,  planted 
the  school  under  the  shadow  of  the  spire,  and  thought  to  marry  re- 
ligion with  the  education  of  the  young.  Undoubtedly,  we  are  dwell- 
ing in  the  focal  point  of  all  that  is  great  and  wise  and  good.     The 


217 

broken  beams  of  knowledge  which  shed  such  a  dim  twilight  on  our 
forefathers  are  now  poured  in  full  glory  upon  us.  It  is  midsummer 
madness  to  deny  it.  Have  not  some  of  our  "  doctors  in  Israel " 
shaken  loose  from  "  the  mouldering  relics  of  the  past,"  and  improved 
upon  the  antiquated  methods  of  those  old-scliool  pedagogues,  who 
had  the  weakness  or  temerity  to  handicap  secular  instruction  with 
all  that  cumbersome  millinery  which  the  Pope  calls  "  the  mysteries 
and  precepts  of  our  holy  rehgion "  ?  Perhaps  we  are  straining  at 
metaphor.     Let  us,  then,  shun  all  indirection  of  language. 

It  has  been  said  by  some  of  our  teachers  that  religion  is,  indeed, 
a  part  of  primary  school  education,  but  certain  contingencies  con- 
strain Catholics  to  seek  an  adjustment  in  secular  States,  on  a  basis 
which  we  firmly  believe  to  be  ruinous  to  the  religion  of  the  children. 
They  affect  to  think  this  a  financial  question.  The  almighty  dollar 
is  harassing  them,  and  their  circle  of  vision  appears  to  be  ckcum- 
Bcribed  by  a  golden  rim.  "  We  are  hard  pressed  in  some  coun- 
tries," they  say,  "  and  poverty  is  the  portion  of  Catholics."  To  pay 
taxes  for  Government  schools,  and,  concurrently  with  that,  suppoi-t 
those  educational  establishments  which  our  private  enterprise  and 
zeal  for  religion  have  founded,  is  a  burden  that  crushes  us  to  the 
earth.  We  cannot  carry  the  load;  it  wiU  break  our  holy  Roman 
Catholis  backs.  Besides,  look  at  the  magnanimity  of  the  State  !  The 
State  constructs  commodious  buildings  for  educational  purposes 
(with  our  money,  of  course),  and,  throwing  open  the  doors  thereof, 
she  invites  us  all  with  wide-extended  arms  to  come  to  her  embrace, 
saying  :  "  Come  to  me,  all  ye  that  labor  under  the  load  of  Catholic 
ignorance,  and  I  will  enlighten  you* at  bottom  prices.'"  Let  us 
close  with  this  generous  proposal,  and  make  a  convention  with  the 
civil  authority.  To  stand  aloof  in  the  face  of  such  a  cordial  invita- 
tion to  the  governmental  *' agape,"  is  to  place  ourselves  under  the  ban 
of  suspicion.  We  shall  be  deemed  a  fractious  and  unpatriotic 
element.  We  shall  be  considered  as  morbid  misanthropists,  warring 
against  the  progress  of  humanity;  as  contumacious  and  refractory 
citizens,  bhndly  wedded  to  exploded  traditions  and  hide-bound  cus- 
toms, out  of  tune  and  out  of  touch  with  that  breadth  and  unity  of  view 
which  makes  the  new  era,  or,  perhaps,  irreconcilably  hostile  to  the 
spirit  and  institutions  of  the  glorious  age  in  which  we  live.  We  are 
all  members  of  humanity ;  we  are  all  friends,  and  as  "  Ta  philon 


218 

koina,'*  as  Euripides  says,  we  will  all  use  the  common  schools  which 
the  Government  gives,  or,  what  is  the  same  thing,  we  will  make  our 
schools  common  by  giving  them  to  the  Government.  We  have 
nothing  to  lose  and  everything  to  gain.  "Ah!  there's  the  rub." 
Have  we  nothing  to  lose  ?  What  have  we  to  gain  ?  Let  us  examine 
in  all  candor,  for,  as  the  poet  says, 

*"Tis  not  enough  taste,  judgment,  learning  join, 
In  all  you  speak  let  truth  and  candor  shine." 

In  all  candor  let  us  examine  this  position  and  see  where  its  logic 
halts  and  its  glaring  inconsistency  appears. 

Now,  there  can  be  no  variance  of  opinion  as  to  the  moral  and 
political  injustice  of  legislation  which  taxes  one  class  of  citizens 
twice  as  much  as  it  does  another,  or  which  taxes  a  large  class  for 
institutions  whose  benefits  they  may  not  share.  Every  man  who 
pays  taxes  ought  to  reap  the  benefit  of  those  taxes.  Nor  can  there 
be  any  question  of  the  impecuniosity  of  Catholics  in  general,  nor 
of  the  grievousness  of  the  burden  which  they  have  to  bear  in  build- 
ing and  supporting  their  own  schools,  while  they  are  forced  to  pay 
into  the  common  treasury  for  the  education  of  others.  Neither  is 
it  a  great  crime  to  glorify  the  age  in  which  our  own  lot  is  cast,  nor 
the  institutions  under  which  we  live.  We  should  not  be  obstruction- 
ists nor  malcontents.  We  ought  to  fall  in  with  the  common  current 
of  events  as  we  find  them;  harmonize  with  the  aims  and  hopes  of 
our  country;  reverence  her  laws  and  institutions,  and  accept  them 
with  unselfish  devotion  and  patriotic  loyalty,  provided  we  have  not 
to  antagonize  our  conviction  of  religion,  to  make  sacrifice  of  prin- 
ciple, to  yield  anything  that  invades  the  holy  sanctuary  of  conscience 
and  allegiance  to  our  God.  It  follows,  then,  that  however  loyal  and 
patriotic  we  might  wish  to  be  held  by  our  fellow-citizens,  we  cannot, 
either  to  suit  them  or  to  relieve  ourselves,  give  up  the  rehgious  edu- 
cation of  our  children.  And  we  are  to  train  them,  not  to  State 
morality,  but  to  the  morality  of  Christ.  We  must  train  them,  not  in 
the  precepts  and  mysteries  of  statecraft,  but  in  "  the  precepts  and 
mysteries  of  our  holy  religion."  "May  the  goddess  of  common 
sense  light  upon  your  dull  perception,"  says  the  ultra-loyal  and  ultra - 
progressive  "  accommodationist";  "we  are  not  yielding  anything. 
We  are  only  cutting  loose  from  the  moorings  of  the  Middlfe  Ages. 


219 

We  were  not  living  then,  but  we  are  living  now.  We  are  confront- 
ing a  condition  and  not  a  theory."     Is-  that  a  fact  ? 

We  raise  no  questions  here  at  all  relative  to  the  rights  of  the 
State  in  the  matter  of  controlling,  supervising,  or  imparting  educa- 
tion. Such  discussion  will  come  in  its  place  But  we  are  disputing 
the  right  of  any  "  doctor  in  Israel  "  to  make  accommodations  with  the 
State,  which,  to  use  an  expressive  but  pertinent  phrase,  "  side-track  " 
religion  for  a  few  paltry  dollars,  or  for  the  high  prerogative  of  being 
considered  a  doughty  defender  of  public  school  education,  or  a 
patriot  deep-dyed  in  the  wool. 

In  the  first  place,  are  we  confronting  a  condition  and  not  a  theory  ? 
Catholicity  is  not  a  theory,  for  a  theor}^  is  but  a  supposition,  and 
may  be  true  or  false.  Even  if  it  signify,  as  it  sometimes  does,  a 
body  of  doctrines  already  demonstrated,  Catholicity  is  more  than 
a  theory.  Cathohcity  is  a  fact,  and  that  fact  is  the  Church  of  Christ, 
her  teachings,  her  grace,  her  sacraments,  her  means  of  salvation,  her 
members.  Theory,  in  its  true  sense,  says  Sir  William  Hamilton,  is 
opposed  to  practice;  and  Catholicity  is  eminently  practical.  "Hold 
on,"  says  the  accommodation  advocate,  ''  you  fail  to  apprehend  the 
case;  Catholicity  is  not  involved.  We  are  merely  seeking  to  adapt 
ourselves  to  external  circumstances,  and  since  we  cannot  make  the 
circumstances  as  we  wish,  we  are  honestly  endeavoring  to  conform 
to  the  conditions  they  impose.  But  we  are,  in  all  this,  yielding  not 
one  jot  or  tittle  of  principle."  How  is  this  ?  Let  us  look  into  the 
subject  closely,  for  it  is  the  point  that  is  up  for  discussion.  Here 
is  the  condition  we  are  confronting: 

We  are  groaning  under  the  burden  we  have  so  long  borne,  of  sup- 
porting our  own  schools.  We  must  seek  State  subvention  in  some 
way.  States  nowadays  are  purely  secular,  and  wiU  not  aid  or  recog- 
nize religion  in  any  manner.  Such,  at  least,  is  the  character  of  our 
State  in  force  of  her  written  constitution.  Now,  we  want  to  pass 
over  our  own  schools  to  the  control  and  management  of  the  State 
(very  generous  of  poor  Catholics),  and  the  State  will  take  them  and 
carry  aU  the  expense  of  conducting  them,  on  condition  that  we  pass 
our  religion  out  of  sight  during  the  hours  of  secular  instruction. 
What  difference  does  it  make  when  religion  be  taught,  if  only  it 
be  taught  ?     Yes— if  it  be  taught  ? 

Now,  apart  from  the  difficulties  that  wiU  doubtless  arise  in  special 


220 

localities  from  bigotry  and  prejudice,  this  "  plan  "  is  open  to  the 
gravest  objections  and  is  full  of  fatal  defects.  It  makes  religion  sub- 
sidiary to  secular  knowledge,  and  the  Charch  and  conscience  pro- 
claim just  the  converse.  It  tacitly  implies  that  religion  and  morality 
are  separable,  at  least  for  five  or  six  hours  of  the  day,  when  they 
may  be  glued  together  again.  It  supposes  that  religion  is  like  a  suit 
of  clothes,  to  be  put  on  or  off  at  the  pleasure  of  the  user.  It  implies 
that  religion  has  so  little  to  do  with  education  that  all  the  great 
branches  of  school  learning,  history,  geography,  composition,  and 
others,  can  be  imparted  without  the  slightest  reference  to  the  sub- 
ject of  religion,  and  is,  therefore,  a  virtual  denial  of  the  principle 
that  education  is,  as  Pius  IX.  said,  primarily  and  chiefly  religious. 
It  counteracts  one  of  the  most  essential  elements  of  religion,  its  sym- 
bolic aspect,  because,  in  most  places,  under  the  working  of  the 
"bobtail"  system,  all  religious  emblems,  such  as  pictures,  statues, 
crucifixes,  shall  be  veiled  and  thrust  out  of  sight.  It  shuts  out  all 
those  pious  exercises,  such  as  prayers,  blessings,  oral  aspirations, 
which  Catholic  children  are  wont  to  make  at  the  opening  and  close 
of  class  recitation,  or  when  the  solemn  stroke  of  the  clock  announces 
the  flight  of  time,  and  thus  falsifies  the  maxim  that  practice  makes 
perfect.  It  tends  to  weaken  the  hold  which  religion  has  uj^on  the 
children's  minds,  because  they  will  soon  learn  to  regard  as  of  minor 
importance  that  which  is  communicated  to  them  "  out  of  hours."  It 
makes  the  work  of  religious  education  all  but  impossible,  because  it 
brings  the  children  to  school  so  much  earlier  that  laggards  will  not 
be  on  time  to  get  the  benefit  of  the  catechetical  instruction;  and  it 
holds  them  "  after  hours,"  when  they  are  worn  out  with  the  tasks  of 
the  day,  and  it  vainly  calls  their  attention  when  their  thoughts  are 
longingly  turned  towards  home.  It  exposes  the  teacher  to  possible 
insult  and  degradation,  who,  though  ia  some  respects  sacred  by 
reason  of  his  or  her  religious  profession,  may  be  cast  out  by  some 
arbitrary  school  board,  at  the  instance,  perhaps,  of  some  drunken, 
pig-headed  parent,  or  some  child  who  has  been  taught  to  despise  the 
garb  he  appears  in.  It  weakens  the  influence  of  the  Catholic  clergy, 
in  that  it  withdraws  them  more  from  their  children,  through  whom, 
for  the  most  part,  they  have  to  reach  the  hearts  of  the  parents.  It 
makes  no  account  of  the  power  of  association  which,  in  children,  is 
all  but   omnipotent.     There  is   no  influence,  not   even  that  of  the 


•  221 

parent,  which  produces  a  more  lasting  effect  upon  the  feelings  and 
habits  of  the  young  than  the  mutual  workings  of  their  own  minds 
and  actions  upon  one  another. 

It  tends  to  swell  and  exaggerate  the  importance  of  the  State,  and 
to  facilitate  its  centralizing  propensities  by  multiplying  its  functions, 
and  placing  in  its  hands  an  engine  of  power,  which  may  become  all 
but  absolute. 

It  helps  to  create  the  impression,  already  gaining  ground  in  some 
quarters,  that  education  is,  as  Cousin  taught,  a  positive  and  not  a 
natural  right,  which,  like  the  right  of  suffrage,  may  be  conferred 
only  by  the  State,  and  exercised  only  by  the  permission  of  the 
secular  authority. 

It  admits,  in  effect,  that  the  State  has,  or  can  have,  no  religion,  a 
proposition  expressly  condemned  by  Leo  XTTT.  in  his  encyclical  on 
the  constitution  of  States;  for  it  compacts  with  the  State  to  banish 
religion  during  secular  hours. 

It  implicitly  adopts  the  piinciple  that  it  is  beyond  the  power  of 
the  State  to  make  any  appropriations  for  *'  sectarian  purposes," 
which  means  that  the  State  cannot  foster  religion  by  grant  or  endow- 
ment, and  implies  that  Catholicity  is  sectarian. 

It  makes  the  School  Board  sui)reme  in  prescribing  programmes  of 
study,  and  thus  lays  Catholics  open  to  the  risk  of  having  obnoxious 
text-books  put  into  the  hands  of  their  children.* 

It  implies  that  a  good  Catholic  cannot  be  a  good  citizen  unless  he 
be  educated  under  State  supervision,  for  it  argues  that  a  prime  ad- 
vantage accruing  to  the  State  from  the  operation  of  the  plan,  is  that 
the  State  draws  under  its  direction  multitudes  of  Catholics,  who 
otherwise  must  keep  aloof  from  it. 

It  is  impractical  as  a  general  plan,  for  the  majority  of  school 
boards  will  never  be  brought  to  consent,  that  all  the  teachers  must 
be  Catholic  in  the  schools  i-un  under  the  system,  if  system  it  may 
be  called. 

If  such  be  the  case,  it  does  not  obviate  the  danger  of  Protestant 
bias  or  Agnostic  tendencies  on  the  part  of  the  teachers,  for  all 
classes  of  teachers  are,  "  and  ought  to  be,"  eligible  candidates  for 
place  in  the  schools  of  a  State  which  has  no  religion. 

*  There  may  be  exceptions  here  and  there,  but,  in  general,  the  supremacy  of 
school  boards  would  have  to  be  allowed. 


222 

It  lacks  the  assurance  of  permanence  and  stability,  for  it  is  liable 
to  be  overthrown  at  the  option  or  caprice  of  the  first  meeting  of 
local  magnates,  who  may  take  it  upon  them  to  do  so. 

Again,  the  "  bobtail "  plan  tacitly  admits  it  to  be  the  express 
function  of  the  State  to  educite.  Tims,  to  say  the  least,  it  confounds 
education  with  mere  instruction,  and  it  likewise  trenches  upon 
parental  authority.  It  makes  Catholics,  in  the  eyes  of  the  rest  of 
the  people,  pensioners  upon  the  bounties  of  the  State  ;  leads  their 
non-religionists  to  think  that  they  are  merely  scrambling  for  the 
loaves  and  the  fishes,  and  not  for  the  bread  of  life.  All  latent  bigotry 
it  stirs  up  against  them;  for,  as  the  teachers  are  garbed  as  religious, 
it  will  be  suspected  they  find  too  much  favor  with  the  civil  author- 
ities. Nor  will  it  be  bigotry  onty,  but  jealousy  and  hostility,  as  that 
feeling  grows  among  the  narrow-minded,  sedulously  fomented  and 
fostered  by  the  sscts  and  their  ministers,  that  the  Catholic  Church  is 
aiming  at  nothing  short  of  the  absolute  control  of  the  whole  educa- 
tional system.  It  takes  the  work  of  education  from  the  serene  and 
unclouded  atmosphere  of  religion,  where  it  now  peacefully  rests,  and 
transfers  it,  root  and  branch,  to  the  murky  region  of  pot-house 
politics,  and  wresting  it  from  those  faithful  hands  which  have 
hitherto  guided  it,  it  carries  it  into  all  fluctuations,  corruptions,  and 
contentions  of  hostile  political  parties.  Of  course,  it  may  be  an- 
swered, that  even  if  any  adjustment  were  had  upon  a  denomination- 
al plan,  which  left  us  free  to  teach  religion  as  much  and  as  often  as 
we  had  the  desire,  we  would  still  have  to  submit  to  the  contingencies 
of  political  mutation.  I  answer,  that  all  may  be.  But  for  the  doubt- 
ful and  tenuous  advantage  to  be  derived  from  the  "  bobtail "  plan, 
"  the  game  is,  by  no  means,  worth  the  candle." 

But  the  one  all-sufficing  objection  to  the  system  is,  it  wipes  out 
the  true  idea  of  Catholic  education,  for  it  makes  it  well-nigh  im- 
possible to  give  that  education,  where  Pius  IX.  said  it  should  be 
given,  in  the  primary  schools.  There  is  not  an  hour  of  the  day,  not 
a  quarter  of  an  hour  of  the  day,  in  which  the  Catholic  teacher  finds, 
not  only  occasion,  but  necessity,  to  illustrate  some  truth  of  faith, 
some  principle  of  religion,  some  rule  of  conduct,  which  has  its  bear- 
ing in  eternity.  But  the  religious  atmosphere  of  the  school  cannot 
enter  even  by  the  chinks  in  the  walls.  To  let  it  in  would  be 
hypocrisy  and  deceit.     How  dare  the  teacher  talk  of  God,  when  the 


223 

State,  which  pays  his  wages,  has  no  God?  If  the  child  should  say 
to  the  teacher,  "  Who  made  the  stars,  Mr.  Principal  ?  "  the  preceptor 
might  reply,  "  Never  mind  now;  I'll  tell  you  that  at  3  o'clock  this 
afternoon,  if  I  don't  forget  it."  There  used  to  be  an  idea  (I  sup- 
pose it  is  exploded  long  ago)  that  the  mind  cannot  put  itself  right 
about  at  any  instant  another  gives  command.  There  used  to  be  an 
idea  that  the  heai-t  could  not  be  di'iven,  but  had  to  be  di-awn  to 
virtue, 

**  As  if  a  breeze  were  there 
Sweeping  her  lowest  depths." 

The  old-fashioned  habit  of  contemplating  the  great  truths  of 
revelation  and  the  destiny  of  the  soul  in  all  our  studies  and  labors, 
is  now  obsolete.  People  used  to  think  that  not  merely  "  some  time," 
but  "all  time"  belonged  to  God,  and  that  constant  vigilance  was 
necessary  to  bring  their  heai-ts  into  the  right  state  towards  their 
Maker;  and,  perhaps,  even  now  it  will  be  found  upon  experience 
that,  after  six  hours  of  secular  study,  a  little  too  much  of  the  world 
will  be  clinging  to  their  minds  to  be  shaken  off  at  a  moment's 
notice.  Correct  "  habitual "  feelings  are  the  result  of  a  life  of  faith. 
No  faint  efforts,  made  at  intervals,  will  accomplish  the  great  work 
God  has  given  educators  to  do. 

"  There  is  a  life  above 
Unmeasured  by  the  flight  of  years, 
And  all  that  life  is  love." 

It  is  no  light  or  flippant  task  to  mould  an  immortal  mind  to  the 
principles  of  rectitude  and  morality,  established  by  the  great  Legis- 
lator of  the  world.  "  It  is  not  all  of  life  to  live."  Within  the  child 
is  a  "  still,  small  voice,"  that  incessantly  cries  for  God.  If  it  is  not 
listened  to  in  time,  it  will  echo  loud  and  shrill  through  eternity.  Woe 
to  that  man  who  shall  deprive  that  voice  of  its  melody.  Nothing  that 
he  can  do  can  rectify  the  evil.  Therefore,  "  in  the  morning  sow  the 
seed,  and  in  the  evening  withhold  not  thy  hand."  Learning  is  an 
empty  shade.  Knowledge  is  of  small  account.  "Wisdom  is  the 
principal  thing;  therefore  get  wisdom."  And  where  shall  she  be 
found,  cries  holy  Job  ?  "  The  fear  of  the  Lord  is  the  beginning  of 
wisdom,"  and,  therefore,  hath  it  been  said  :  "  Train  up  the  child  in 


224 

the  way  he  should  go  when  he  is  young,  and  when  he  is  old  he  will 
not  depart  from  it." 

For  this  reason,  the  Mother  of  Wisdom,  the  Catholic  Church  of 
Christ,  has  made  primary  education  the  object  of  her  care,  solicitude, 
and  vigilance.  We  believe  that  the  agencies  selected  by  the  Creating 
Mind  to  move  the  human,  are  better  for  their  purpose  than  any  of 
human  invention;  and  there  is  no  reason  to  doubt  that  when  Jesus 
established  His  Church,  the  little,  unsuspecting,  laughter-ioviug  chil- 
dren were  all  held  in  remembrance  by  their  sympathetic  Saviour, 
and  by  Him  were  committed  as  an  inviolable  trust  to  His  holy 
Spouse.  She  will  never  lay  down  her  charge.  No  man  shall  wrest 
it  from  her.  The  powers  of  this  world  may  seek  to  arrogate  it  to 
themselves,  but  it  is  a  heritage  of  which  no  man  can  deprive  her. 

"  Strong  as  the  rock  of  the  ocean  that  stems 
A  thousand  wild  waves  on  the  shore," 

she  will  stand  against  all  assaults,  whether  they  come  from  the  rock- 
ribbed  fastnesses  cf  error  without,  or  from  the  weakness  of  her 
followers  within,  and  will  proclaim  to  the  world  that  education  has  a 
supernatural  end;  that  education  without  religion  does  not  form,  but 
deform  the  world;  that  the  apotheosis  of  naturalism  is  the  destruction 
of  society;  that  those  States  which  banish  God  and  religion  from 
the  minds  of  the  rising  generations  are  but  preparing  their  own 
downfall;  that  the  works  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  the  words  of  Jesus 
Christ,  which  constituted  her  the  teacher  of  the  nations,  can  never 
pass  away,  and  that  she  will  continue,  as  she  h:is  continued  for  1,900 
years,  to  instil  into  the  minds  of  all  her  children,  but  with  more 
solicitude  the  young,  those  lessons  of  wisdom  which  not  all  the 
thunders  of  a  Tully  or  Demosthenes  can  teach — that  wisdom  which 
alone  can  teach  mankind  to  breast  the  storms  and  resist  the  tempta- 
tions of  the  world,  and  can  lift  the  soul  from  the  vanities  and  allure- 
ments of  a  perishable  and  fallen  life  to  the  contemplation  of  a  nobler 
one  beyond  the  skies.  Even  so  shall  parents  reap  the  delightful 
fruits  of  her  labors,  in  the  affection,  obedience,  and  piety  of  their 
children;  so  shall  the  State  reap  them  in  the  virtue,  enlightenment, 
and  patriotism  of  its  citizens;  so  shall  the  Church  militant  reap  them 
herself  in  faithful,  zealous,  and  God-fearing  sons  and  daughters;  and 
finally,  so  shall  the  Church  triumphant  reap  them  in  the  multiplica- 


225 

tion  of  those  blessed  spirits  who,  in  the  Mngdom  of  God,  shine  as 
stars  for  eternity,  and  day  and  night 


And 


"  Circle  His  throne  rejoicing." 

"  How  sweet  to  woo  and  win  her  favors  here  ! 
Beneath  the  shadow  of  heaven-gifted  souls 
To  dwell,  and  drink  the  life-bestowing  stream 
Bubbling  from  Truth's  eternal  fountains  ! " 

Note.— We  think  it  a  waste  of  time  and  language  to  discuss  here  what  is 
called  the  "  Sunday-School  Experiment."  To  attempt  to  teach  children  the 
requisites  of  a  religious  education  in  a  brief  hour  once  a  week  would  be  com- 
ical if  it  were  not  criminal.  We  might  as  well  consider  a  man  religious  who 
takes  off  his  hat  on  Sunday  and  makes  a  distant  bow  to  the  Almighty  as  to 
suppose  that  a  half -hour  or  an  hour's  instruction  on  Sunday  is  sufficient  to 
make  those  children  Catholics. 


Chapter  IY. — Rights  and  Duties  of  the  State  regard- 
ing Education.* 

In  discussing  the  rights  of  different  powers  over  education,  it  is 
justly  assumed  that  all  essential  terms  take  their  commonly  accepted 
meaning.  No  need,  perhaps,  to  state  this.  But,  considering  that 
in  the  controversy  raging,  as  we  write,  between  skilful  combatants, 
variance  of  opinion  arises  from  the  use  of  similar  terms  in  disparate 
senses,  it  is  the  part  of  prudence  to  define  explicitly  the  terminology 
here  employed,  essaying,  as  we  are,  to  touch  the  most  vexed  part  of 
the  discussion. 

As  to  the  word  right,  it  is  taken  to  signify  a  morally  inviolable  fac- 
ulty of  doing,  demanding,  receiving,  or  requiring  something. f 
Eight  is  a  quaUty  of  persons;  they  only  can  be  the  subject  of  rights. 
This  does  not  mean  that  right  and  duty  always  co-exist  in  the  same 
subject.     Infants  have  rights.     They  have  not  duties,  for,  being  in- 

*  Two  things  are  to  be  borae  in  mind  in  reading  this  article :  First,  the 
writer  believes  in  the  necessity  of  public  school  education,  and  is  not  waging 
war  upon  the  public  schools ;  Second,  that  our  contention  is  solely  for  the 
union  of  religion  and  education. 

f  Zigliara,  Mor.  Phil.,  P.I.,  L.I.,  C.I.,  A.I.     Tongeorgi,  De  juris  et  offlciis. 
15 


226 

capable  of  reasoning,  they  can  have  no  knowledge  of  duty.  Right 
is  a  relative  term,  whose  correlative  is  duty.  If  there  is  no  duty, 
there  is  no  right.  This  does  not  mean  that  right  springs  from 
dut}^,  for  both  come  from  law;  but  it  means  that  if  right  any- 
where exists,  there  exists  a  duty  to  respect  that  right.  We  speak 
of  course,  of  human  rights,  for  man  has  no  rights  against  God,  but 
only  duties  towards  Him. 

The  question  has  been  raised  whether  right  comes  before  duty,  or 
duty  before  right.  Inviolability  is  the  essential  characteristic  of 
right.  And  my  right  is  inviolable,  because  others  are  bound  to 
respect  it.  Logically,  then,  duty  may  be  taken  as  prior  to  right,  but 
not  ontologically,  nor  causally.  There  was  no  obligation  to  respect 
the  right  before  the  right  existed,  and  there  was  no  right  without 
the  obligations  which  make  it  inviolable.  *'  if  by  the  dictate  of 
reason  I  owe  you  reverence,  obedience,  love,  and  other  such  duties, 
you  can,  according  to  reason,  exact  all  these  from  me.  But  my  duty 
does  not  spring  from  your  right,  nor  your  right  from  my  duty;  for, 
correctly  speaking,  both  arise  simultaneously  from  the  law  of  eternal 
order  made  known  to  us  by  the  light  of  reason."  *  And,  as  St. 
Thomas  says,  "the  law  is  not,  properly  speaking,  the  right  itself;  it 
is  the  measure  of  right ";  t  and  it  is  the  measure  of  duty.  Again,  as 
Zigliara  observes,  "  Right  and  duty  are  correlative  terms,  and  cor- 
relatives do  not  cause  each  other,  but  flow  from  a  common 
fountain."  J 

As  to  the  various  kinds  of  right,  the  distinctions  to  be  noted  here 
are  :  1st,  direct  and  indirect;  2d,  absolute  and  hypothetical;  3d, 
perfect  and  imperfect;  4th,  alienable  and  inalienable.  It  may  be 
observed  that  a  natural  right  may  also  be  an  acquired  right,  but  not 
every  acquired  right  is  natural.  Thus,  by  nature,  parents  have  the 
right  of  educating  their  children,  but  the  right  is  acquired  by  the 
fact  of  paternity;  and  a  man  may  acquire  the  rights  of  citizenship 
by  the  enactments  of  positive  law.  The  fact  on  which  right  is  founded 
is  termed  the  title  to  the  right. 

In  reference  to  the  word  education,  the  preceding  pages  of  this 
discussion  fully  expose  the  sense  in  which  it  is  used  here.  To 
educate  is  to  unfold  the  full  contents  of  the  man.     Education  is  the 

*  Taparelli,  Saggio  di  diretto  naturale,  N.  347. 

f  Q.  Q.  Quaest.  LVII.,  Art.  I.  1:Lib.  III.,  P.  3,  C.  2,  Art.  3. 


227 

orderly  and  harmonious  development  of  all  the  faculties  of  man,  as 
these  faculties  refer  to  a  fourfold  object,  man  himself,  the  extemcJ 
world,  society,  and  God.     Man's  education  is  thus  four-sided. 

Since,  however,  this  quadruple  development  must  not  only  be 
commenced,  but  must  chiefly  be  attended  to  in  the  season  of  child- 
hood, education  most  properly  refers  to  the  training  and  teaching  of 
children. 

That  such  is  the  legitimate  use  of  the  word  education,  we  might 
show  from  a  host  of  citations.  But  it  is  unnecessary.  Let  it  be  taken 
for  granted  that  we  are  all  agreed  upon  the  definition,  for,  as 
Cardinal  Newman  says,  if  we  rightly  define,  we  shall  soon  cease  to 
dispute. 

It  follows,  then,  that  education  is  not  the  mere  communication  of 
truth.  Education  goes  far  beyond  mere  instruction,  or  any  mere 
communication  of  knowledge.  Education  implies  the  imparting  of 
knowledge,  but  not  all  communication  of  knowledge  is  education. 
"  Knowledge  puffeth  up,"  says  the  Apostle,  but  humility  is  the  char- 
acteristic of  the  scholar  and  the  educated  man.  Knowledge  forms 
the  mind;  education,  the  heart  and  the  character.  Knowledge  trains 
a  part;  education  trains  the  whole,  and  as  the  whole  is  greater  than 
the  part,  so  is  education  greater  than  instruction.  Instruction  may 
help  to  make  an  intellectual  man;  education  makes  him  a  moral  and 
religious  being.  Instruction,  as  such,  prescinds  from  man's  final 
end;  education  always  makes  account  of  man's  end  and  destiny. 
Instruction,  as  such,  lies  in  the  secular  order;  education  appertains 
to  the  spiritual.  The  first  may  fit  a  man  for  the  life  of  the  world; 
the  second  prepares  him  for  heaven  and  for  God. 

Every  man  may  have  naturally  the  right  to  communicate  truth; 
not  every  man  has  the  right  to  educate.  Education  implies  not 
merely  the  power  of  precept,  but  also  the  power  of  efficacious  com- 
mand. The  right  to  make  rules  is  one  thing;  Ihe  power  to  enforce 
them  is  another.  The  right  to  educate  and  the  authority  to  educate 
are  distinct  in  conception,  but  they  are  inseparable  in  practice.  No 
man  has  the  right  to  educate,  unless  he  have  also  the  authority 
directly  or  indirectly.  Every  man  has  the  right  to  spread  the  light, 
but  no  man  has  a  right  to  turn  it  upon  eyes  unwilling  to  receive 
it.  Every  man  may  have  the  right  of  instructing  the  ignorant,  but 
not  every  man  has  authority  to  make  them  receive  his  instruction. 


228 

Nor  is  this  any  confusion  of  right  and  the  exercise  of  right.  The 
physician  has  the  right  to  practice  medicine,  but  he  has  no  authority 
to  make  people  swallow  his  physic.  To  suppose  that  he  had,  would 
be  to  confound  his  right  with  its  exercise.  But  the  educator  has  the 
right  not  only  to  teach  his  doctrines,  but  also  to  enforce  their  ac- 
ceptance, or  he  is  not  in  the  true  sense  an  educator.  To  educate  is 
to  unfold  the  full  contents  of  the  man.  Among  man's  faculties,  his 
will  is  pre-eminent.  To  educate  the  will  is  to  mould,  to  train,  to 
direct,  to  govern  it.  Education,  then,  is  government,  and  govern- 
ment supposes  authority. 

It  follows,  then,  education  is  not  the  same  as  the  exercise  of  works 
of  mercy,  nor  of  fraternal  correction.  I  have  not  only  the  right, 
but  also  the  duty  to  correct  my  brother  if  he  "  offend  against  me," 
but  if  he  will  not  hear  me,  and  those  I  appeal  to  aid  in  the  correc- 
tion, I  must  invoke  the  authority  of  the  Church  to  compel  his  obe- 
dience, and  if  he  reject  this  authority,  he  is  become  "  as  the  heathen 
and  the  publican."  *  But  my  own  unsupported  authority  is  unequal 
to  commanding  my  neighbor's  correction,  and  this  is  precisely  the 
difference  between  fraternal  and  paternal  correction. 

Individuals,  as  such,  or  every  physical  person,  suitably  competent, 
has  doubtless  the  right  to  communicate  knowledge.  But  this  right 
is  founded  on  fact,  viz.,  the  consent  of  others  to  receive  such  com- 
munication. Before  the  existence  of  such  fact,  the  right  is  vague, 
indeterminate,  abstract,  hypothetical ;  after  the  fact  exists,  the  right 
becomes  defined,  concrete,  actual.  To  have  no  actual  right  is  to 
have  no  right ;  just  as  to  have  no  clothes  is  to  go  naked.  Properly 
speaking,  the  right  hardly  existed  at  all  antecedently  to  the  will  of 
him  who  seeks  the  knowledge  imparted,  but  was  conferred  upon  the 
instructor  by  the  one  seeking  instruction  ;  or,  if  it  existed,  it  was 
only  inchoate,  incomplete,  and  imj)erfect.  This  is  not  confounding 
right  with  the  exercise  of  right;  but  the  contrary  doctrine,  that  every 
man  has  the  right  to  educate,  is  confounding  the  capacity  or  ability 
to  do  a  thing  with  the  right  of  doing  the  same.  If  I  have  the  right 
to  do  a  thing,  I  have  the  right  to  do  it,  and  there's  an  end  of  it.  If  I 
have  the  right  to  educate,  I  have  the  right  to  educate,  irrespective 
of  consent,  for  I  have  the  authority  to  compel  consent.  And  for  this 
reason  we  may  as  well  put  out  of  consideration  the  right  of  individ- 

*  Matt,  xviii.  17. 


229 

uals  to  educate,  for  their  rights  are  secondary,  derived,  delegated. 
They  have  as  much  right  as  they  have  authority,  and  they  have  as 
much  authority  as  they  have  received — from  those  who  have  both 
right  and  authority,  the  parents  of  children. 

If  no  individual,  as  such,  has  this  authority,  neither  has  any  col- 
lection of  individuals,  as  such,  the  authority.  For  no  one  gives 
what  he  has  not  to  give.  It  is  quite  true,  that  there  is  no  more  right 
or  authority  in  an  association  of  individuals,  than  in  the  persons  sep- 
arately who  compose  the  association.  Each  brings  into  the  associ- 
ation just  what  he  had  and  no  more.  It  may  not  be  validly  objected, 
that  no  individual  has  the  right  to  inflict  capital  punishment,  yet 
such  right  exists  in  society.  It  need  hardly  be  remarked,  that  so- 
ciety is  not  a  voluntary  association,  or  aggregation  of  individuals. 
If  Hobbes,  Locke,  and  Rousseau  are  right  in  their  theory  as  to  the 
origin  of  civil  society,  then  the  State  is  a  mere  aggregation,  and  so- 
ciety would  have  no  more  authoiity  than  that  of  the  individuals  who 
composed  it,  and  no  man,  and  ng  number  of  men,  would  have  the 
right  to  take  life,  save  in  self  defense.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  in  so- 
ciety, properly  constituted,  there  exists  an  element  of  power,  not  in 
the  individuals  composing  it,  it  arises  from  the  fact  that  society  is 
more  than  an  association  of  persons. 

That  argument  is,  therefore,  illogical  which  affirms  that  as  the  in- 
dividual, the  collection  of  individuals,  or  an  association,  so  also  the 
State  has  competency  over  education.  This  we  declare,  not  to  deny 
to  the  State  all  jurisdiction  over  the  education  of  its  citizens,  but 
to  show  that,  if  it  possesses  any  such  rights  at  all,  they  flow,  not 
from  the  principle  of  association,  but  from  the  organic  constitution 
of  society,  and  from  something  vital  to  its  very  existence.  If,  as 
seems  to  us,  every  association,  as  such,  has  not  the  right  to  educate, 
Dr.  BouquiUon's  contention  that  the  State,  like  every  society,  has 
such  right,  is  urged  to  no  purpose.  What  rights,  in  this  respect,, 
pertain  to  the  State,  belong  to  it  not  because  it  is  an  association,  but 
because  it  is  more  than  an  association  can  ever  be. 

What,  then,  is  the  State? 

To  answer  adequately  this  question,  it  is  needful  to  recall  the  Mo- 
saic account  of  creation.  Agreeably  to  the  Biblical  narrative,  man 
was  created,  not  as  an  individual  merely,  but  as  the  head  of  the  race, 
the  father  of  the  family,  the  first  factor  of  the  civil  order.     Natural 


230 

society,  from  which  civil  government  derives  its  origin,  had  its  root 
in  the  primal  parent  of  the  race.  The  crown  of  creation  and  the 
noblest  work  of  the  Creator,  man  did  not  suffice  for  himself;  "  it  was 
not  good  for  him  to  be  alone."  God,  therefore,  drew  forth  from 
Adam's  side,  while  he  slept,  her  who  was  to  be  his  consoii  and 
helper  in  the  propagation  and  extension  of  the  race. 

The  family,  then,  was  an  essential  part  of  the  divine  plan,  and 
upon  the  institution  of  marriage  the  security  and  permanency  of  the 
family  was  founded.  The  family  was  the  incipient  or  embryonic 
State,  and  civil  government  was  established  by  God,  no  less  than 
marriage,  religion,  and  society  itself,  for  government  is  essential  to 
society. 

If  the  human  race  were  a  mere  collection  of  individuals,  without 
any  organic  solidarity,  unconnected  in  origin,  and  independent  as  to 
life  and  development,  the  order  of  civil  government  would  have  been 
unnecessary;  but  as  man  was  born  a  social  animal,  as  Aristotle  ob- 
serves,* was  to  live  in  intercourse  with  his  kind,  depend  on  God 
through  society  and  attain  his  final  perfection  by  means  of  such 
communication,  the  authority  of  government  formed  a  necessary 
part  of  the  providential  plan  in  the  economy  of  the  world.  This  ju- 
risdiction was  originally  vested  in  Adam  as  the  father  of  the  family 
and  the  head  of  the  race. 

Aristotle  traces  the  origin  of  the  State  to  the  family,  as  the  unit  of 
society.  The  State,  he  affirms,  is  founded  in  nature,  and  man  is  by 
nature  a  social  animal;  for  he  who,  not  by  the  fault  of  fortune, 
but  by  the  impulse  of  nature,  lives  outside  of  society;  he  who  cannot 
contract  association  with  others,  or  does  not  stand  in  need  of  com- 
munion with  his  fellows,  forms  no  part  of  society,  and  is  either  a 
beast  or  a  god,  of  whom  Homer  says, 

"  Cui  neque  curia,  nee  lex  est,  neque  Yesta,  Laresque."  f 

Accordingly,  with  the  progress  of  time,  and  as  the  exigencies  of 
the  race  demanded,  and  the  family  grew  into  the  patriarchal  tribe, 
the  divine  authority  of  government  was  more  clearly  drawn  out  by 
the  Author  of  human  society  when  He  conferred  upon  it  the  ^'  right 
of  the  sword."     The  power  of  capital  punishment  was  conferred  by 

*  De  re  Politica,  Lib.  I.,  cap,  1.  f  De  re  Politica,  Lib.  I.,  cap.  1. 


231 

God  on  tlie  State  for  its  own  preservation,  for,  as  Vattel  remarks, 
self-preservation  is  the  first  law  with  nations,  as  with  individuals. 
Thus  life  is  protected  by  taking  away  life  which  invades  it. 

Under  the  earliest  ordinances  of  society,  when  all  were  closely 
united  by  common  belief,  common  hopes,  and  recency  of  common 
origin,  civil  government  and  religion,  or  Church  and  State,  were  con- 
joined in  perfect  and  harmonious  alliance.  This  was  a  divine  or 
theocratic  constitution  of  society,  exemplified  under  the  Mosaic  dis- 
pensation and  imitated  throughout  heathendom,  for  the  pagan  ruler 
was  both  emperor  and  pontiff. 

When,  however,  the  patriarchal  system,  once  exercised  by  Adam, 
Noah,  and  Abraham,  disappeared,  or  was  disused  by  all  but  barba- 
rians, the  political  nation  sprang  into  being  and  the  civil  order  put 
on  its  perfection.  Marriage,  divine  worship,  the  exercise  of  supreme 
authority  by  the  civil  power,  and  the  union  of  Church  and  State  in 
the  same  governing  authority,  were  the  essential  features  of  the 
theocratic  stage  of  society.  The  new  civil  order  was  the  harbinger 
of  a  change.  While  the  religious  and  civil  orders  were  to  run  on 
parallel  lines,  never  conflicting,  never  Ijindering,  but  helping  each 
the  other,  both  acting  in  concert  and  correspondence,  but  with  due 
subordination,  for  the  well-being  of  society;  it  seemed,  nevertheless, 
more  consonant  with  the  development  of  the  race  that  the  two 
powers  should  be  no  longer  vested  in  the  same  subject.  The  re- 
ligious and  the  civil  powers  are  distinct  as  to  laws,  ends,  and  au- 
thority, and  should  be  so  a^  to  their  different  spheres  of  action, 
neither  impeding  nor  excluding  the  other.  To  this  view  Christ  Him- 
self gave  concurrence,  when  in  answer  to  the  demand  of  tribute  to 
Csesar,  He  replied:  "Eender  unto  Caesar  the  things  that  are  Caesar's 
and  to  God  the  things  that  are  God's." 

But  alas !  many  pagan  States  rejected  the  new  religion,  and  the 
political  philosopher  who  traces  the  history  of  the  race  cannot  fail 
to  note  how  the  Unes  of  divergence  between  the  two  orders,  which, 
though  distinguishable,  are  not  disparate,  have  grown  wider  and 
wider  apart.  The  civil  power  has  for  centuries  sought  to  aggrandize 
itself  at  the  expense  of  the  ecclesiastical,  not  only  by  sequestrating 
the  Church's  property,  but  by  sacrilegiously  invading  her  sanctuary. 
Witness  the  long  contest  of  the  Papacy  and  the  Empire;  the  great 
revolt  of  the  sixteenth  century;  the  arrogance  of  Napoleon  the  Great; 


232 

the  occupation  of  Victor  Emmanuel;  and  behold  it  still  more  in  the 
atheism  and  infidelity  of  the  modern  European  Governments,  the 
secularization  of  education,  and  the  persistent  attempt  to  expunge 
from  the  whole  civil  order  the  last  vestige  of  the  supernatural,  com- 
bined with  the  rejection  of  the  authority  of  the  Catholic  Church.  It 
is  a  sad  reflection,  that  at  this  day  there  is  hardly  a  civilized  nation 
which  professes  to  be  guided  by  the  teaching  authority  of  that 
Church  to  which  was  given  the  commission  to  teach  the  nations. 

But  whether  the  State  be  pagan  or  Christian,  its  rights,  in  the 
natural  order,  are  the  same.  The  heathen  prince  acquires  no  new 
authority  in  the  civil  order  when  he  enters  the  door  of  the  church, 
nor  does  he  forfeit  his  right  to  rule,  if  like  Julian,  the  Emperor,  he 
abjures  the  Christian  religion.  The  rights  of  the  State  depend  on 
the  end  and  constitution  of  the  State  and  extend  to  the  domain  of 
temporals  only,  though  such  restriction  does  not  imply  the  State  has 
no  concern  with  the  morality  of  the  Gospel  and  the  action  of  super- 
natural grace. 

Justice  is  the  foundation  of  the  State ;  for,  as  Aristotle  has  it,  the 
judgment  {i.  e.,  justice)  of  society  constitutes  the  civil  order.*  And 
Yattel  says:  Justice  is  of  strict  obligation  with  nations. 

The  State,  consequently,  exists  for  the  maintenance  of  justice,  the 
preservation  of  natural  rights,  the  conservation  of  order,  the  protec- 
tion of  property  and  those  external  goods  which  are  necessary  for 
life,  liberty,  and  the  pursuit  of  happiness.  Its  jurisdiction  lies 
wholly  in  the  temporal  order,  and  it  cannot  fetter  the  minds  nor  con- 
trol the  consciences  of  men. 

But  the  State  is,  nevertheless,  a  power — a  sovereignty,  if  you  will, 
and  it  holds  from  God,  but  not  in  the  sense  in  which  we  speak  of 
the  divine  rights  of  kings.  It  speaks  to  all;  it  commands  and  can 
enforce  obedience  in  its  own  sphere.  As  a  sovereignty,  it  is  by  its 
nature  a  free  and  independent  society,  or  political  organization.  It 
may  determine  the  form  of  its  internal  constitution;  may  establish, 
alter,  or  even  abolish  its  municipal  government;  may  pass  from  a 
pure  democracy  to  a  monarqhy,  a  despotism,  or  a  mixed  govern- 
ment. As  a  body  politic,  it  has  affairs  and  interests  peculiar  to  it- 
self and  for  which  it  is  responsible;  it  is  a  moral  person,  capable  of 

*  Justicia  civilis  res  est.  Nam  judicium  societatis  civiles  ordo  est.  Arist., 
De  re  Politica,  Lib.  I.,  cap.  I. 


2.3 

deliberation  and  resolution,  susceptible  of  right  and  obligations. 
From  its  nature  it  has  efficacious  public  authority  to  order  and  con- 
trol what  is  done  by  its  individual  members,  as  far  as  their  actions 
affect  the  end  and  object  for  which  the  State  has  its  being.  This  po- 
litical authority,  whether  vested  in  one  or  many,  is  the  sovereignty  of 
the  State.  A  sovereign  State  may  be  defined:  A  people  organized 
into  a  body  pohtic,  fixed  to  definite  soil,  and  exercising  the  rights  of 
self-government. 

Now  occurs  the  question  whether  it  is  the  right  and  office  of  the 
State  to  educate  ?  If  the  State  exist  at  all,  it  must  have  some  func- 
tions. Is  education  one  of  them  ?  If  we  adhere  to  our  definition, 
and  take  education  to  mean  the  unfolding  of  the  full  contents  of  the 
man,  then  we  unreservedly  answer,  that  it  is  not  the  business  of  the 
State  to  educate.  It  is  not  the  office  of  the  State  to  teach  religion, 
and  religion  is  the  chief  part  of  education.  The  logic  of  this  is  in- 
exorable. Modern  republics  now  vaunt  themselves  on  their  emanci- 
pation of  all  religious  control,  and  could  not  consistently  teach  to 
the  rising  generations  what  has  been  repudiated  as  useless,  if  not 
injurious,  to  society. 

It  may  be  answered  that  the  State  has  the  right  to  procure  what 
is  necessary  for  the  temporal  welfare,  and  education  is  above  all 
things  necessary.*  To  this  it  may  reasonably  be  replied,  in  the 
words  of  Aristotle,  that  not  everything  that  is  necessary  to  the 
State  is  directly  procurable  by  the  State.  This  principle  the  great 
Stagirite  admitted,  though  he  held  the  State  to  be  prior  to  the 
family,  prior  to  the  individual,  as  the  whole  is  prior  to  its  parts. 

Even  were  that  peculiar  theory  adopted  which  makes  the  State 
the  sole  end  of  the  State,  men  would  strenuously  object  to  have  the 
State  interfere  in  their  domestic  concerns;  to  make  sumptuary  laws; 
to  paralyze  individual  industry  by  assuming  control  of  arts,  trades, 
manufactures,  and  all  the  means  of  transportation  and  communica- 
tion; to  tell  us  what  we  shall  eat,  how  we  shall  dress,  or  to  re-en- 
force the  old  curfew  law  fixing  the  hour  of  retirement  at  night;  to 
usurp,  in  a  word,  all  those  functions  which  private  individuals  now 
perform  for  themselves  far  more  efficiently  than  the  State;  to  de- 
stroy what  Card.  Manning  calls  the  "  unbought  energy  "  of  the  peo- 
ple, and  arrogate  to  itself  all  the  enlightenment  and  intelligence  of  the 

*  Dr.  Bouquillon,  "  The  Right  to  Educate:  To  whom  does  it  belong  ?  " 


234 

comm  unity.  We  have  had  a  sample  of  State  supremacy  in  Elinois, 
where  the  obnoxious  Edwards  law  was  enforced,  till  nobly  fought 
down  by  the  distinguished  Bishop  of  Peoria.  We  have  seen  it  in 
the  Bennett  law  of  Wisconsin,  strenuously  opposed  by  Catholics 
and  Lutherans  alike. 

In  this  land  of  America  exists  a  large  class  to-day  who  want  to  ex- 
alt State  authority  into  the  absolute.  Is  this  country  Europeaniz- 
ing?  Are  we  to  introduce  here  the  old-world  despotisms?  Shall 
we  have  an  American  Csesar  ?  General  Grant  gave  great  impetus 
to  the  movement  in  favor  of  strong  government,  and  it  may  well  be 
believed  that  his  defeat  in  securing  a  nomination  for  a  third  term 
was  a  barrier  against  the  introduction  of  imperialism  in  government 
on  the  shores  of  the  new  world.  General  Grant  took  advanced 
ground  on  the  school  question,  when  he  spoke  of  the  sanctity  of  the 
school  funds  at  Des  Moines,  Iowa,  and  it  is  a  notable  fact,  that  those 
Catholic  ecclesiastics  who  are  seeking  to  extend  the  rights  and 
powers  of  the  State,  are  members  of  the  Republican  party.  We 
seem  to  forget  that  the  government  is  the  servant,  and  not  the 
master  of  the  people;  that  the  State  exists  for  the  people  and  by  the 
people;  that  the  people  were  not  made  for  the  State,  but  the  State 
for  the  people;  that  our  government  is  no  more  than  a  corporate 
agency  to  execute  the  will  of  the  people,  to  administer  justice,  secure 
property  and  personal  rights,  and  play  in  general  the  role  of  police 
officer.  In  the  people,  under  God,  resides  the  sovereignty  of  the 
nation,  and  the  right  of  the  State  and  the  duty  of  the  State  is  to  dis- 
charge the  functions  assigned  to  it  within  the  sphere  of  its  delegated 
authority.  But  the  State  nowadays,  after  the  example  of  all  despot- 
isms, takes  upon  itself  to  control  the  education  of  its  subjects  in  all 
respects,  and  claims  the  children  as  belonging  to  herself.  She  is 
like  a  great  feudal  lord,  and  by  assuming  parental  rights,  as  if 
parents  were  unqualified  for  the  duties  which  God  placed  upon 
them,  the  State  verges  daily  towards  that  paternalism  which  the 
fathers  of  the  country  washed  away  in  the  blood  of  the  Revolution. 

But  if  the  State  has  not  the  right  to  educate,  in  the  sense  in  which 
we  use  the  word,  has  not  the  State  the  right  to  impart  secular  in- 
struction to  its  subjects  ?  We  distinguish:  That  she  has  a  special 
and  direct  right  to  do  so,  we  have  not  been  able  to  establish,  though 
we  have  diligently  searched  the  pages  of  many  great  writers  on  the 


235 

subject,  and  perhaps  the  strongest  argument  in  favor  of  the  affirma- 
tive are  the  words  of  Mgr.  Sauve,  quoted  by  Dr.  Bouquillon:  "Ma 
these  est  done  celle-ci:  Le  pouvoir  civil  a  ete  investi  par  Dieu  du 
droit  de  procurer  le  bien  commun  temporel,  et  par  la  meme  de 
f avoriser  et  d'ouvrir  au  besion  des  ecoles  qui  contribuent  a  ce  bien."  * 
Mgr.  Sauve  observes:  "the  opposite  thesis  which  refuses  to  the  State 
all  right  to  teach  does  not  appear  to  us  probable."  t 

But  after  a  careful  examination  of  the  whole  chapter  on  the 
Liberty  of  Education,  we  fail  to  find  that  he  anywhere  makes  a 
claim  for  a  direct,  special,  and  proper  right  to  teach  on  the  part  of 
tbe  State.  In  the  passage  above  quoted,  he  affiims  that  the  State  has 
been  endowed  by  God  with  the  right  to  favor  and  to  open  schools, 
but  does  not  assign  to  it  the  function  of  schoolmaster.  And  aU  the 
authorities  cited  by  Mgr.  Sauve,  and  quoted  by  Dr.  Bouquillon,  can 
be  quoted  only  to  the  same  effect,  as  may  be  seen  by  a  reference  to 
the  originals.  Thus,  for  example,  Hammerstein:  "The  State  and 
the  Church  have,  both,  the  right  to  found  schools,  and  to  each  be- 
longs the  direction  of  the  schools  founded  by  itself."  t  Thus,  too, 
Cavignis;  thus  Costa-Rosetti,  and  thus  Cardinal  Zigliara,  are  cited 
to  prove  the  right  of  the  State  to  establish  schools.  Card.  Zigliara 
speaks  of  the  State's  right  and  duty  to  found  schools,  for  the  pro- 
viding better  opportunities  (media  aptiora,  he  calls  them),  for  the  in- 
tellectual and  moral  education  of  the  young.  But  not  one  of  these 
authors  appears  to  claim  for  the  State  the  direct,  special,  and  proper 
right  to  teach  or  educate. 

If  the  State  has  such  nght,  whence  does  it  emanate  ?  Not  from, 
the  natural  law;  for  in  force  of  it,  education  is  the  province  of 
parents.  Not  from  the  divine  law,  for  by  its  disposition  the  Church 
is  the  teacher  of  nations.  Whence  then  ?  From  the  end  and  nature 
of  society,  or  the  State,  which  is  established  to  procure  the  temporal 
common  good.  But  for  this  the  State  need  not  herself  be  the  edu- 
cator. It  is  a  grave  question  whether  the  temporal  common  good  is 
not  better  procured  when  the  State  leaves  education  to  others. 
Card.  Manning  thinks  so,  when  he  shows  how  State  monopoly  de- 
stroys individual  effort,  and  how  people  appreciate  far  more  highly 
what  costs  them  sacrifice  and  self-denial. 

*  "  Questions  Religieuses  et  Sociales,"  par  Mgr.  H.  Sauve,  p.  271. 
f  Ibid.,  p.  271;   Hammerstein,  De  Ecclesia  et  Statu,  p.  146. 


236 

But  has  the  State  no  rights  in  respect  of  education  ?  Yes;  and 
those  rights  are  manifold. 

Granted  that  the  end  of  the  State  is  to  procure  the  temporal  com- 
mon good;  in  attaining  that  good  the  State  has  to  respect  natural  law 
and  the  natural  rights  of  man.  And  parental  control  of  education  is 
a  natural,  inalienable,  and  inviolable  right.  Moral  or  mental  incom- 
petency is  only  apparent  exertion,  for  their  control  ceases  to  exist. 
The  State,  therefore,  cannot  compel  the  parent  to  send  his  child  to  a 
school  which,  as  a  parent,  he  disapproves  in  conscience.  The  father 
can  say:  "Who  art  thou,  that  thou  judgest  another  man's  servant? 
to  his  own  master  he  standeth  or  falleth." 

But  the  State  has  the  right,  and  the  duty  as  well,  to  supplement 
the  family.  Hence  she  can  and  she  ought  to  provide  agencies  or 
means  that  parents  may  the  better  secure  the  education  of  their 
children.  This  she  can  accomplish  by  founding  and  endowing 
schools,  as  the  wants  and  necessities  of  parents  demand  such  educa- 
tional establishments;  but  she  can  do  so  only  when  her  subventions 
and  endowments  conduce  to  the  public  weal,  which  is  not  the  case  if 
education  be  sufficiently  provided  for  by  private  enterprise.  For  on 
this  hypothesis,  the  founding  of  State  schools  could  only  effect  an 
unnecessary  burden  of  taxation,  or  eventuate  in  crushing  out  the 
private  schools  which  were  first  planted  Such  a  result  is  not  un- 
looked  for  in  England,  where  the  "  Board  Schools,"  supposed  to  supple- 
ment the  voluntary  schools,  are,  by  partial  and  discriminating  distribu- 
tion of  educational  funds,  pushingthe  voluntary  institutions  to  the  wall. 

The  State  can  also  supplement  the  family  by  undertaking  the  ed- 
ucation of  fatherless  and  friendless  children,  and  children  of  those 
parents  who  are  so  poor  or  so  incompetent  as  to  be  unable  to  satisfy 
their  duty  towards  their  offspring,  especially  if  those  who  have  next 
right  after  the  parents  are  wanting  in  the  emergency. 

The  State  has  likewise  the  right  to  protect  itself  against  ignorance 
and  the  vices  that  commonly  are  adjuncts  of  illiteracy;  she  has  the 
right  to  see  that  her  citizens  do  not  grow  up  as  barbarians,  but  as 
intelligent  and  competent  voters  with  sufficient  information  to  en- 
able them  to  discharge  the  duties  of  citizenship;  she  has  the  right 
to  guard  against  the  degeneracy  and  decay  which  are  sure  to  ensue 
where  society  is  long  subject  to  the  blighting  effects  of  an  unschooled 
population. 


237 

The  State  has  the  right,  under  just  or  pressing  necessity,  to  em- 
ploy constraint  even,  to  carry  into  her  schools  those  whose  ignorance 
would  menace  society;  but  the  State  has  not  the  right  of  so  educat- 
ing children  as  to  compel  parents  to  send  them  to  those  schools 
precisely  which  it  establishes;  nor  to  resei-ve  to  itself  the  sole  right 
of  teaching  and  founding  schools;  nor  to  exact  a  minimum  of  educa- 
tion and  prescribe  the  quantity  and  quaUty  of  the  subject  matter, 
which,  if  omitted,  would  savor  of  negligence,  in  schools  not  of  its 
own  founding.  Cousin  thought  the  obligation  of  imposing  element- 
ary instruction  upon  all  was  as  much  the  province  of  the  legislative 
power  as  the  enforcing  militaiy  service;  and  if  for  reasons  of  public 
good,  she  can  enjoin  the  latter,  afortioH,  she  can  command  the  other 
as  a  utility  of  a  higher  order.  Though  it  be  conceded  that  the  State 
can  compel  parents  to  give  their  children  such  instruction  as  they 
absolutely  need  lest  they  become  a  burden  to  society;  still  we  can 
reject  the  contention  which  claims  for  the  State  j)ower  to  exact  from 
every  child  such  instruction,  and  such  only,  as  the  State  deems  ele- 
mentary, which  often  extends  to  things  superfluous,  frivolous,  and 
even  detrimental.  In  some  places  a  study  of  Greek  mythology  was 
enumerated  among  the  necessaries  of  a  school  training.  The  fact  is, 
the  education  fetich  has  hoodooed  the  people.  In  Scotland,  a  few 
years  ago,  dancing  formed  a  regular  part  of  the  curriculum,  and 
whist,  chess,  and  backgammon  ought  to  follow  to  round  out  the 
course.  At  a  meeting  of  the  Schoolmasters'  Club,  held  in  Boston, 
February  15,  1890,  it  was  declared  tliat  the  manual  school  was 
not  high  enough;  it  should  be  a  college.  Schools  to-day  are 
organized,  not  as  children's  improvement,  but  as  teachers'  mutual 
admiration  societies;  they  exist  not  for  the  benefit  of  scholars,  but 
for  that  of  teachers.  The  academic  course  at  the  Chicago  Manual 
Training  School  is  the  same  as  that  at  an  English  high-school.  With 
Latin,  Greek,  and  French  as  elective  studies.  Drawing  is  followed 
five  hours  per  week;  shop  work  ten  hours  per  week; — not  for  the 
purpose  of  making  artisans  and  tradesmen,  but  for  producing  cul- 
tui'ed  men  who  are  to  do  the  hard  thinking  of  life.  It  must  be 
assumed  they  are  to  think  with  blocks,  saws,  and  chisels.  Those 
who  take  any  interest  in  sanitary  reform  do  well  to  protest  against 
overburdened  courses  of  study,  and  demand  time  for  healthful  ex- 
ercises to  take  the  place  of  mere  memory  work,  which  Dr.  Eice  de- 


238 

Clares  to  be  the  capital  defect  of  every  public  school  he  visited  in 
the  last  six  months. 

We  know,  of  course,  that  the  man  who  could  devise  a  system  to 
suit  everybody  went  to  heaven  long  ago  ;  but  it  is  patent  to  all  ob- 
servers that  the  friends  of  the  public  school  system  are  in  a  fair  way 
to  crush  it  by  weighting  it  down  with  extra  burdens.  They  were 
about  to  pension  teachers  at  Albany.  Akeady  text-books  are  free; 
ham  sandwiches  should  follow  for  the  lunch  hour,  and  toboggan 
slides  and  merry-go-rounds  for  the  recess.  It  is  high  time  to  call  a 
halt  here.  It  is  time  to  determine  the  limits  of  public  benefaction 
in  the  domain  of  education.  Free  education  just  now  enjoys  great 
cry.  For  the  poor,  and  for  the  thousands  and  thousands  of  children 
of  the  land,  who,  without  State  aid,  would  grow  up  in  brutal  igno- 
rance, the  public  schools  are  a  boon  above  price.  But  there  is  no 
popular  demand  for  unlimited  extension  of  the  common  school  system ; 
extension  which  is  vigorously  pushed  by  men  like  Chancellor  Mc- 
Cracken,  of  New  York,  and  the  vast  army  of  educators  and  politi- 
cians, who  are  the  beneficiaries  of  the  system.  Let  it  be  remembered 
that  common  schools  were  first  founded  in  this  country  for  the  bene- 
fit of  the  i)oor,  and  not  for  the  periwigged  professors,  who  draw 
from  the  common  treasury  a  square  yard  of  salary  for  each  pound  of 
mental  pabulum  bestowed  upon  their  pupils.  These  are  the  men 
who  are  incessantly  urging  the  legislators  to  found  a  national  univer- 
sity, not  so  much  to  form  the  national  character,  as  they  terra  it,  as 
to  favor  the  forces  of  centralization  which  are  daily  operating  in  the 
body  politic,  and  to  provide  unstinted  emolument  and  high  honors 
for  themselves,  as  the  high-priests  of  literature  and  learning  in  the 
nation.  This  innovation  upon  our  pre-established  policy  and  usage 
is  the  boldest  yet  promulgated  by  our  pedagogues,  and  it  is  the 
more  dangerous  to  constitutional  liberty,  in  that  it  takes  shelter 
under  the  pretext  of  forming  the  national  character  by  uniformity 
of  ideas  wrought  by  educational  processes 

If  man  was  made  for  the  State,  and  not  the  State  for  man,  then 
man  should  be  educated  in  the  image  and  likeness  of  the  State. 
Aristotle  seems  to  incline  to  this  view,  for  he  says  :  "  Since  the  end 
of  all  society  is  one  and  the  same,  it  is  necessary  that  education  and 
discipline  be  the  same;  and  the  procuration  of  this  education  must 


239 

be  public  and  not  private."  *  For  this  reason,  he  lauds  the  Lace- 
daemonians, who  sought  to  estabhsh  the  unnatural  system  of  absolute 
uniformity  in  education.  Frindelenberg  affirms  that  the  State  has 
the  right  to  exert  her  powers  in  education,  so  that  the  minds  and 
wills  of  all  be  imbued  with  common  sentiments  and  common  moral 
ideas,  and  it  is  in  the  nature  of  the  case  that  the  State  should  be  the 
educator. 

We  believe  in  the  solidarity  of  nations,  through  their  governments, 
and  we  hold  to  a  certain  soHdai'ity  of  the  whole  human  race.  Inter- 
national law  has  advanced  to  the  dignity  of  a  science,  and  the  assim- 
ilation of  nations  with  one  another  on  account  of  their  interde- 
pendence and  community  of  interests  grows  apace  with  the  advance 
of  the  centuries.  But  the  dream  of  Gregory  the  Great  will,  doubt- 
less, never  be  realized,  for  it  is  improbable  that  absolute  unity  of 
faith  will  ever  prevail,  despite  the  well-meant  efforts  of  evangehcal 
alliances;  and  without  such  principle  of  unification,  social  and  com- 
mercial intercourse,  treaties,  concordats,  even  unity  of  language  and 
education,  cannot  break  down  geographical  barriers  and  efface  those 
distinctions  which  clime  and  distance  always  must  beget,  or  effect 
anything  more  than  that  friendly  relationship  and  familiarity  of 
intercourse  which  is  founded  upon  considerations  of  commercial 
policy  and  the  preservation  of  peace  among  the  nations  of  the 
earth. 

It  is,  no  doubt,  true  that  the  Author  of  human  society  has  ordain- 
ed that  a  cei-tain  conformity  of  ideas  should  exist,  not  only  among 
the  members  of  one  nation,  but  among  aU  the  members  of  the  race. 
Biit  national  unity  is  sufficiently  conserved  by  having  parents  teach 
their  children  ideas  of  patriotism,  incorruptible  citizenship,  and  the 
faithful  performance  of  all  civic  duties.  In  point  of  fact,  parents  are 
wont  to  do  this.  An  Englishman  will  educate  his  child  as  an 
Englishman;  a  Frenchman,  his  as  a  Frenchman;  an  American,  his 
as  an  American.  But  if  a  Bohemian  in  Chicago,  or  a  German  in 
Milwaukee,  elects  to  have  his  child  taught  in  the  language  which  his 
parents  before  him  learned,  and  which  alone,  perhaps,  they  speak, 
what  right  has  the  State  to  interfere  ?  As  a  matter  of  fact,  the 
German  language  is  now  taught  in  the  public  schools,  or  in  many  of 

*Arist.,  De  re  Politica,  Lib.  VIII.,  Cap.  I.,  De  educatione  puerorum. 


240 

them,  but  there  is  no  outcry  against  this  "  un-American  "  and  "  anti- 
Republican  "  proceeding. 

It  is  regrettable  that  this  cry  of  Americanism  comes,  for  the  most 
part,  from  Catholics — and  Catholic  ecclesiastics  at  that.  They  tell 
us  that  parochial  schools  are  nurseries  of  sedition,  and  every  little 
Catholic  child  educated  by  the  mild-mannered  and  peace-loving 
religious  is  a  Benedict  Arnold  in  embryo.  Has  not  a  great  voice 
out  of  the  Northwest  proclaimed  the  alarming  truth — defenders, 
get  your  guns — ^that  Catholic  schools  are  unpatriotic  and  un- 
American?     It  must  be  so;  it  is  treason  to  deny  it. 

It  is  woi4)hy  of  record  for  the  honor  and  good  sense  of  Protest- 
ants, that  as  a  body  they  have  never  been  guilty  of  the  wanton 
brutality  of  trumpeting  forth  such  malevolent  and  extravagant 
rhodomontade.  This  degrading  employment  was  a  task  coveted  by 
none,  it  seems,  but  those  of  our  own  household.  "  He  that  hath  not 
the  care  of  his  own,  is  worse  than  an  infidel." 

It  is  both  profitable  and  interesting  to  compare  the  utterances  of 
Protestant  clergymen  and  laymen  on  the  subject  with  those  of 
men  who  live  by  the  sanctuary  and  have  been  ordained,  to  spread, 
not  discord,  but  the  gospel  of  peace  among  men. 

Says  President  Elliot  of  Harvard  :  "  The  public  schools  are  de- 
fective, barren  in  moral  results,  and  from  a  secular  standpoint, 
are  far  below  the  schools  of  Germany." 

In  the  North  American  Review  for  December,  1880,  Richard  Grant 
White  declares,  in  discussing  the  "Public  School  Failure":  "If 
the  public  school  were  what  it  was  set  up  to  be,  its  fruits  would 
by  this  time  be  manifest.  After  fifty  years  of  common  schooling, 
our  large  towns  swarm  with  idle  and  vicious  lads  and  young  men 
who  have  no  visible  means  of  support.  Crime  and  vice  have  in- 
creased, pari  passu,  almost  with  the  development  of  the  public  school 
system.     Filial  respect  and  parental  love  have  both  diminished." 

Rev.  Dr.  Hodge,  professor  in  Princeton  Seminary  a  few  years 
ago  :  "  ShaU  not  all  of  us,  who  really  believe  in  God,  thank  Him  that 
He  has  preserved  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  in  this  country  true 
to  that  theory  of  education  on  which  our  fathers  first  founded  the 
public  schools  of  the  land,  and  which  has  been  so  madly  per- 
verted ?  " 

Rev.  J.  Minot  Savage,  of  Boston  :  "If  I  were  a  Catholic,  as  I  am 


241 

a  Protestant,  I  would  regard  it  as  intolerable  tyranny  to  be  com- 
pelled to  support  or  send  my  children  to  schools  which  I  could  not 
use  in  conscience." 

"  The  public  school  is  a  fetich  to  the  public  mind,"  says  a  New  York 
lawyer  of  high  standing  in  the  Episcopal  Chui'ch,  whom  I  am  not  at 
liberty  to  quote. 

I  might  multiply  these  references  unendingly,  but  it  will  amuse 
and  astonish  us  to  note  some  singular  utterances  of  the  Catholic 
clergy. 

"The  public  schools  are  the  most  cherished  institutions  in  o\ir 
land."— P.  Eock. 

•  "Blessed  be  the  hillsides  and  valleys  they  adorn.  Withered  be 
the  hand  raised  in  sign  of  their  destniction.  They  are  the  schools 
of  the  rich  and  the  respectable.  Parochial  schools  are  not  equal  to 
them,"  etc. — The  great  Voice  of  St.  Paul,  not  to  Philippians,  but  to 
the  Mississippians,  and  the  trans-Missourians. 

"  The  public  schools  are  the  best  in  the  land." — Small  voice  which 
chronicles  sayings  in  the  Northwest.  But  of  this  enough.  The  edu- 
cation fetich  will  cease  to  unbalance  the  mind  so  soon  as  it  is  dis- 
covered that  it  is  only  a  lump  of  metal,  a  brazen  image,  or  a  piece 

of  clay. 

The  dearest  idol  I  have  known, 

Whate'er  that  idol  be, 
Help  me  to  tear  it  from  Thy  throne 

And  worship  only  Thee. 

At  present  education,  or  rather  instruction,  is  the  one  predomi- 
nant and  all-controlling  influence  of  society.  Our  social  policy,  from 
top  to  bottom,  inclines  to  instruction.  "  The  gates  of  Castle  Garden 
open  inward,"  said  President  Harrison,  and  those  who  tremble  when 
contemplating  the  immigration  problem,  are  lulled  to  security  by 
the  siren  voice  of  the  educational  enchantress.  If  any  sociologist 
or  statesman  is  asked  how  we  are  to  assimilate  the  swarms  of  for- 
eigners yearly  dumped  upon  our  shores,  he  answers  with  confident 
complacency  :  "  Educate  them  ;  public  school  them,"  and  presto ! 
they  are  full-fledged  American  citizens,  each  man  with  a  ballot  in 
his  hand  and  a  copy  of  the  Constitution  in  his  pocket.  Bat  there  is 
no  magical  virtue  in  the  process  to  re-create  men.  If  men  and 
women  could  be  made  better  by  instruction,  then  our  people  ought 
16 


242 

to  be  tlie  most  moral  and  law-abiding  in  the  world,  for  as  a  great 
American  statesman  once  said,  "they  are  the  most  *  common 
schooled '  people  on  earth."  American  reformers  expect  "  by  pour- 
ing fresh  instruction  on  the  mind  "  to  lift  up  the  fallen  creature  of 
the  slums,  the  savage  Sioux  of  the  West,  and  his  dark-skinned 
brother  at  the  South,  as  well  as  the  ignorant  emigrant  from  Europe, 
just  as  the  angel  lifted  Habacuc,  by  the  hair  of  the  head,  to  a  con- 
dition of  ideal  manhood  and  to  a  full  conception  of  all  the  duties 
and  dignities  of  American  citizenship.  The  moral  part  of  man  is 
seldom  attended  to,  or  such  attention  is  deemed  superfluous,  if  he 
be  crammed  with  blocks  of  knowledge. 

The  statistics  of  crime  with  us  show  that  morality  and  instruction 
are  wholly  different  principles.  The  offences  most  frequent  are 
those  committed  by  men  of  average  education.  The  percentage  of 
prisoners  who  do  not  read  and  write  is  very  small.  There  is  abso- 
lutely nothing  in  the  power  of  arithmetic,  or  physiology,  or  even  in  a 
course  of  pedagogics  to  restrain  man's  animal  passions,  or  to  prevent 
his  forging  a  check  when  the  occasion  tempts  him  to  the  crime.  There 
is  no  salvation  in  the  spelling-book.  But  it  is  almost  blasphemy  to 
utter  a  word  in  criticism  of  the  innumerable  devices  for  gorging  the 
people  with  knowledge.  Knowledge  is  power,  it  is  true  ;  but  it  is 
often  power  to  go  to  the  devil.  In  some  way,  however,  common 
schoohng  is  regarded  as  a  panacea  for  all  the  ills  that  man  is  heir  to, 
and  to  purify  the  purlieus  of  our  cities  and  rescue  the  forlorn  emi- 
grant, it  is  only  necessary  to  cram  the  subject  with  knowledge^ 
Cram  him  till  you  suffocate  him,  if  you  like,  and  you  will  either  kill 
or  cure  him. 

The  end  of  all  education  is  the  formation  of  character  and  the  shap- 
ing of  destiny,  not  for  time,  but  for  eternity.  Training  in  morals 
must  come  first.  Physical  science,  intellectual  training,  and  even 
aesthetic  culture,  can  effect  nothing  more  than  the  production  of  a 
class  of  men  who,  while  remarkable  for  acuteness  of  intellect,  are 
far  more  distinguished,  like  those  of  ancient  Sparta,  for  moral  dis- 
order, immanity  of  manners,  and  cruelty  of  heart. 

But  we  do  not  deny  the  necessity  of  public  education  if  under- 
stood with  its  proper  limitations.  The  State  should  in  every  way 
foster  and  promote,  as  well  as  facilitate,  the  training  of  her  future 
citizens.     The  State  should  supplement  the  family  by  compelling 


243 

negligent  parents  to  satisfy  their  obligations  in  regard  to  the  edu- 
cation or  instruction  of  their  children.  But  the  State  must  not 
trench  upon  the  rights  of  others  ;  compel  children  to  go  to  certain 
schools  and  no  others,  even  against  the  manifest  wish  of  parents  ; 
reserve  to  herself  exclusively  the  right  of  estabhshing  schools,  and 
take  upon  herself  the  functions  of  teaching  and  educating  altogether. 
We  deny  the  right  of  direct  or  equal  concurrence  of  the  State  with 
the  parent  in  the  training  of  the  child,  unless  we  admit  Danton's 
theory  that  the  children  belong  to  the  State ;  or  Stahl's,  that  edu- 
cation flows  from  parental  and  State  rights  conjointly  ;  and  we 
deny  whatever  illation  comes  from  such  supposed  right.  It  is,  per- 
haps, opportune  to  remark  here  that  Mgr.  SatolH,  in  his  address  to 
the  Archbishops,  did  not,  as  some  incline  to  think,  proclaim  the 
direct  right  of  the  State  over  education.  "  Absolutely  and  univers- 
ally speaking,"  he  says,  "  there  is  no  repugnance  in  their  (the  pupils) 
learning  the  first  elements  and  the  higher  branches  of  the  arts  and 
natural  sciences  in  public  schools  controlled  by  the  State,  whose 
ofl&ce  it  is  to  provide  and  protect  everything  by  which  its  citizens  are 
formed  to  moral  goodness.  The  State  should  protect  religion,  but 
who  wiU  thence  infer  that  she  must  teach  religion  ?"  Those  who  care 
to  pursue  the  subject  farther,  should  read  Mgr.  De  Concilio's 
pamphlet  on  State  Supremacy  in  Education,  or  that  of  Fr,  Conway, 
S.  J.,  on  the  same  subject. 

How  stands  the  question  now  ?  It  has  been  agitated  by  learned 
men,  sometimes  with  acrimony,  but  always  with  ardor,  for  the  last 
two  years,  and  we  seem  far  off  from  a  settlement,  as  yet.  Even  the 
Pope's  decision  will  not  finally  adjudicate  it.  It  wiU  settle  dissension 
on  the  poHcy  which  CathoHcs  are  to  pursue  towards  the  State  and 
public  education,  but  it  will  scarcely  alter  the  attitude  of  Protestants 
and  others,  effect  any  change  in  the  present  methods  and  theories 
of  State  education,  or  pull  down  the  great  god  secularism  which  aU 
Americans  are  now  worshipping  with  undeviating  devotion. 

When  public  schools  were  first  formed,  several  courses  were 
open  for  adoption  :  First,  to  omit  religious  teaching  in  its  denomi- 
national forms  ;  secondly,  to  exclude  religion  altogether,  and  pro- 
scribe it  absolutely  ;  and  finally,  to  adopt  a  temporizing  course  by 
imparting  to  the  schools  a  non-sectarian  character,  which,  though 
deceiving  many,  has  satisfied  but  few.     Under  the  last  system,  Prot- 


244 

estantism  was  smuggled  into  the  school  room,  till  the  vast  numbers 
who  rejected  its  tenets,  rose  in  rebellion,  and  the  educators  fell  back 
on  the  principle  of  excluding  religion  altogether,  and  as  a  natural 
result,  we  are  growing  up  a  nation  of  infidels.  Distinctive  religious 
lines  are  being  rapidly  effaced.  Dogma,  even  such  as  Protestants 
have,  is  on  the  decline.  Membership  in  Protestant  Churches  is  con- 
stantly decreasing,  and  from  a  Protestant  pulpit  in  the  city  of  New 
York,  a  minister  dolefully  inquires  whether  Protestantism  is  a  fail- 
ure. And  no  wonder.  "When  a  child  is  not  impressed  at  school 
with  the  idea  of  the  importance  of  religion,  but  is  taught  the  rather 
that  it  makes  no  difference  what  religion  a  man  professes,  or  that 
Buddha,  Mahomet,  and  Christ  are  equally  objects  of  reverence, 
how  long  is  he  to  be  expected  to  hold  fast  the  faith  of  his  fore- 
fathers ? 

"But  all  are  agreed  that  the  State  cannot  recognize  religion." 
"  The  State  has  nothing  to  do  with  religion  except  to  protect  every 
citizen  in  the  exercise  of  his  religious  liberty."  Granted;  that  is 
recognizing  religion.  The  State  now  not  only  recognizes  religion, 
but  protects  and  favors  religious  institutions.  She  exempts  them 
from  taxation;  she  admits  recognition  of  religion  in  denominational 
institutions  which  obtain  State  aid,  such  as  asylums,  hospitals,  pro- 
tectories, refuges,  and  other  establishments  where  a  distinctive  form 
of  religion  is  taught  by  teachers  paid  by  the  Government,  and  the 
same  principle  is  countenanced  by  the  Federal  authority  in  the  In- 
dian schools,  where  the  Protestant  or  Catholic  religion  is  taught. 

"  The  State  cannot  recognize  religion."  What  folly !  How  are 
Catholics  caught  with  such  chaff  ?  The  State  recognizes  religion  in 
a  thousand  ways.  The  common  law  is  inseparably  connected  with 
the  ethics  of  Christianity.  The  oaths  of  public  servants,  from  the 
President  to  the  pound-keeper;  the  prayers  of  our  Senatorial  and 
Congressional  chaplains;  Thanksgiving  proclamations;  our  treaties, 
our  laws,  our  customs,  our  traditions,  all  presuppose  religion  in  that 
they  affirm  a  God. 

The  State  cannot  discriminate  against  any  religion,  nor  can  it  pro- 
scribe any.  The  State  invades  individual  or  parental  rights  when  it 
aDows  or  orders  the  teacher  to  impose  his  religion,  or  the  religion  of 
a  school  board  upon  the  pupils  in  opposition  to  the  will  of 
the   parents   of  the   child.     The   State   invades  the   rights   of  in- 


245 

dividuals  when  it  makes  secularism  the  religion  of  the  school.  But 
the  State  protects  a  most  holy  and  sacred  right  when  it  ordains  that 
no  teacher's  religion,  no  school  committee's  religion,  no  quantum 
sufficit  religion,  and  no  secularistic  non-religion  be  made  compulsory 
on  children  who  do  not  want,  and  will  not  have,  such  religion. 

It  is,  however,  the  silliest  twaddle  to  maintain  that  in  virtue  of  our 
conditions  we  cannot  admit  religion  in  the  public  schools.  There  is 
absolutely  nothing  in  the  Federal  Constitution  against  such  admis- 
sion, but  much  in  favor  of  it.  At  all  events,  education  is  not  a  matter 
of  national,  but  of  State  supervision,  and  each  State  has  it  within  its 
province  to  make  such  readjustment  of  the  school  system  as  will  ad- 
mit religion  within  the  doors  of  our  educational  establishments.  Let 
Lutherans,  Episcopalians,  Catholics,  Hebrews,  and  those  of  the  Pres- 
byterian family,  who,  like  the  late  Dr.  Hodge,  believe  in  the  neces- 
sity of  religion  in  education,  join  hands,  and  they  can  move  together 
like  an  irresistible  phalanx.  The  secularist  and  the  indifferentist 
have  not  all  rights;  they  have  held  the  field  long  enough. 

But  whether  a  union  so  desirable  shall  ever  be  effected  or  not, 
the  Catholic  will  always  peacefully  and  manfully  assert  his  rights. 
Even  where  he  admits  compromise,  he  believes  that  the  issue  is  only 
postponed.  Religion  is  the  only  salvation  of  society,  and  it  must 
sooner  or  later  be  taught  in  the  schools,  or  else  our  social  fabric  will 
calamitously  fall.  The  Catholic  position  will  ultimately  be  found  to 
be  coiTect. 

"  But  Catholics  are  unpatriotic."  "  Catholics  want  to  control  the 
whole  school  system."  Fudge !  Such  talk  is  the  delirium  of  in- 
sanity, or  the  envenomed  froth  of  bigotry.  "  But  any  concession  of 
funds  to  Catholics  is  State  recognition  of  denominational  religion." 
Granted;  what  of  it?  I  have  shown  that  such  recognition  of  re- 
ligion is  not  unconstitutional.  "  Congress  shall  make  no  law  respect- 
ing the  establishment  of  religion,  nor  prohibiting  the  free  exercise 
thereof."  Exactly.  Catholics  want  no  religious  establishment  by 
the  State — no  established  Church  like  the  Anglican — and  ask  only 
the  free  exercise  of  their  own  religion.  They  solicit  not  a  penny 
from  the  State  for  the  support  of  their  religion.  They  have  a  right 
to  one  of  two  things:  either  to  State  aid  for  the  work  they  now  per- 
form for  the  State,  or  exemption  from  taxation  for  the  education  of 
children  in  schools  they  cannot  enjoy.     Like  true  Americans  they 


246 

believe  in  the  time-honored  principle — no  taxation  without  represen- 
tation. The  future  war-cry  of  Catholics  should  be :  Exempt  us  from 
school  taxation. 

We  believe  that  the  time  is  fast  coming  when  religion  wiU  and 
must  be  taught  in  the  schools.  What  religion  ?  whose  rehgion  ?  If 
all  religions,  how  ?  These  are  practical  difficulties,  but  they  are  not 
insoluble.  They  have  found  answers  elsewhere,  and  they  will  be 
answered  here.     We  say,  as  Cardinal  Manning  said  of  England: 

"  If  this  is  to  remain  a  Christian  land,  then  our  schools  must  be 
Christian,  and  when  they  cease  to  be  Christian  schools,  there  may  be 
Christians  in  America,  but  the  traditions  of  the  American  people  will 

exist  no  longer We  are  debtors  above  aU  men  and  to  all  men, 

to  preserve  inviolate,  at  all  costs  and  at  all  privations,  Vie  unbroken 
and  unimpaired  tradition  of  Christian  education  in  the  whole  circle 
of  our  colleges  and  schools,  from  the  majestic  and  venerable  colleges 
of  Princeton,  Harvard,  Yale,  Georgetown,  and  Fordham,  to  the  pri- 
mary schools  of  our  humble  missions  in  the  green  villages  and  in 
the  busy  towns  of  America." 

But  are  Catholics  themselves  agreed  in  their  demands  ?  Alas !  it 
would  seem  not.  A  celebrated  governor,  whose  name  is  as  wide  as 
the  nation,  once  said  in  my  presence :  "  I  really  have  not  been  able 
to  find  out  exactly  what  the  demands  of  Catholics  imply." 

WeU,  our  differences  are  more  apparent  than  real.  All  allow  the 
necessity  of  a  combined  religious  and  secular  education,  but  differ 
as  to  the  mode  of  attaining  the  combination. 

Two  questions  are  to  be  distinguished  in  the  discussion;  one  spec- 
ulative, the  other  practical.  The  first  is  a  question  of  abstract  right; 
the  other  a  question  of  administrative  policy.  The  first  asks  whether 
the  State  has  a  right  to  educate,  and  was  doubtless  carried  into  the 
field  of  public  controversy  by  those  who  sought  to  pave  the  way  for 
an  accommodation  with  the  State.  For  the  particular  end  in  view 
the  discussion  was  unnecessary,  for  in  our  conditions  aU  allow^ed 
that  public  education  was  as  necessary  as  it  was  beneficent.  We 
have  already  touched  it  sufficiently. 

As  to  the  practical  question,  many  held  that  such  accommodation 
as  that  introduced  at  Faribault  was  a  surrender  of  the  Catholic  po- 
sition, and  its  supporters  could  in  nowise  render  it  defensible,  save 
by  providing  for  the  religious  education  of  the  children  affected  by 


247 

tlie  arrangement.  Archbishop  Ireland,  the  founder  of  the  "plan/' 
held  that  it  involved  no  new  departure,  and  left  all  Catholic  prin- 
ciples intact.  The  Pope  tolerated  the  arrangement  in  the  two  cases 
specified,  and  most  people  imagined  that  would  end  the  matter.  The 
decision  of  Rome,  as  its  very  terms  indicate,  was  rendered  agreeably 
to  the  representation  that  the  people  of  Faribault  and  Stillwater 
were  not  equal  to  the  burden  of  maintaining  parochial  schools.  On 
this  principle,  that  is,  financial  inability,  the  permission  would  have 
been  granted  to  any  community.     But  the  end  was  not  yet. 

"With  the  advent  of  the  Papal  Delegate  upon  our  shores,  it  became 
manifest  that  what  was  at  first  inaugurated  as  a  special  or  excep- 
tional arrangement  for  particular  cases,  had  the  unqualified  and  en- 
ergetic support  of  a  powerful  propaganda  for  its  extension  and  gen- 
eralization. It  was  soon  discovered  that  there  was  a  complete 
change  of  front  on  the  part  of  many  who  were  once  ardent  and  un- 
compromising champions  of  a  positively  Catholic  school,  without  one 
jot  or  tittle  of  concession  in  anything  that  the  term  Catholic  educa- 
tion imphes.  The  leading  Church  dignitary  of  the  land,  it  was  sus- 
pected, was  in  hearty  sympathy  with  the  new  departure ;  yet,  when 
ruling  the  Vicariate  of  North  Carolina,  he  declared  repeatedly  for  pa- 
rochial schools,  and  in  an  article  in  Public  Opinion  he  gave  utter- 
ance to  such  uncompromising  speech  as  this: 

"  The  catechetical  instructions  given  once  a  week  in  our  ^unday- 
schools,  though  productive  of  beneficial  results,  are  insufficient  to 
supply  the  rehgious  wants  of  our  children.  It  is  important  that 
they  should  breathe  every  day  a  healthy  religious  atmosphere  in 
schools  in  which  not  only  is  their  mind  enlightened,  but  the  seeds  of 
faith,  piety,  and  sound  morality  are  nourished  and  invigorated." 
These  words  have  a  ring  about  them  like  an  emanation  from 
Pius  IX. 

The  Rector  of  the  Catholic  University,  in  the  North  American  Re- 
view, in  1885,  uttered  the  following  ultramontane  sentiments  : 

"  Doubtless,  most  of  the  Bishops  of  the  country  believe  that  the 
present  system  which  taxes  for  the  support  of  schools,  which  they 
cannot  conscientiously  use,  is  unjust — is  taxation  without  representa- 
tion— and  probably  may  hold  that  a  denominational  system  like  that 
in  Canada  or  England,  would  be  more  advisable  and  practicable  in 
this  country  also.    But  there  are  some,  and  the  present  writer  is  among 


248 

them,  who,  seeing  that  government  aid  is  apt  to  lead  to  dictation  and 
interference,  would  rather  continue  forever  to  bear  the  unfairness 
and  the  hardships  of  the  present  system  than  to  purchase  State  aid 
at  the  cost  of  any  danger  to  the  thoroughly  Christian  character  and 
perfect  rehgious  freedom  of  our  schools." 

The  same  illustrious  prelate  beat  his  retreat  to  the  music  of  the 
following: 

"  I  had  no  thought  of  denying  the  legitimate  rights  of  the  State 
when  I  said,  that  in  order  to  avoid  government  dictation  and  inter- 
ference, it  seemed  better  to  do  without  State  aid Govern- 
ment interference  and  dictation  are  dangerous  only  when  likely  to 

be  used  in  hostility  to  the  Church The  anti-religious  State 

does  not  in  any  way  represent  the  American  commonwealth."  Yet, 
in  the  above  quotation,  he  is  speaking  of  the  American  commomvealth. 

Such,  too,  has  been  the  changed  attitude  of  others. 

Whether  Mgr.  SatoUi  had  in  mind  when  he  came  to  this  country 
the  purpose  of  advancing  the  "liberal  movement,"  as  it  has  been 
denominated,  has  been  doubted,  but  few  were  prepared  for  the 
radical  and  sweeping  revelations  made  at  the  conference  of  the  Arch- 
bishops in  New  York. 

The  outcome  of  the  meeting  has  not  yet  been  made  fully  mani- 
fest. Of  the  fourteen  propositions  submitted  by  Mgr.  Satolli,  some, 
it  would  appear,  were  rejected,  while  others  were  accepted.  One 
thing,  however,  seemed  evident,  the  disagreement  of  the  majority  of 
the  Archbishops  with  the  plan  of  Mgr.  Ireland.  For  that  system,  or 
plan — though  Willis  West  denies  that  it  is  a  "  plan,"  and  affirms  em- 
phatically that  if  it  were  a  plan,  he,  as  a  Protestant,  would  oppose  it 
tooth  and  nail — for  that  system,  such  as  it  is,  Archbishop  Ireland,  its 
sponsor,  was  the  only  voter.  It  is  likewise  asserted  on  reliable  au- 
thority, that  of  all  present  but  one  voted  for  Mgr.  Satolli's  proposi- 
tions. Archbishop  Ireland;  the  rest.  Card.  Gibbons  as  presiding 
officer  excepted,  with  singular  unanimity  rejected  them,  or  what  is 
the  same  thing  in  effect,  voted  not  to  receive  them. 

Of  the  address  of  Archbishop  Satolli,  it  is  not  within  our  province 
to  speak,  beyond  adverting  to  the  consolatory  fact — consolatory  to 
those  who  believe  in  an  unadulterated  and  unmutilated  religious  ed- 
ucation for  their  children — that  both  the  Papal  Delegate  in  his  ad- 
dress and  the  Archbishops  in  their  resolutions  have  enunciated  and 


249 

reaffirmed  the  teachings  of  the  Councils  of  Baltimore.  "  For  the 
rest,"  says  the  Delegate,  *'  the  provisions  of  the  Council  of  Baltimore 
are  yet  in  force,  and  in  a  general  way,  will  remain  so,  to- wit: 

*'  Not  only  out  of  our  pastoral  love  do  we  exhort  Catholic  parents, 
but  we  command  them  by  all  the  authority  we  possess,  to  procure  a 
truly  Christian  and  Catholic  education  for  the  beloved  offspring 
given  them  of  God,  born  again  in  Baptism  unto  Christ  and  destined 
for  Heaven,  to  shield  and  secure  them  throughout  childhood  and 
youth  from  the  dangers  of  a  merely  worldly  education,  and,  there- 
fore, to  send  them  to  the  parochial  or  other  truly  Catholic  schools." 

That  the  resolutions  of  the  Archbishops  are  in  perfect  touch  and 
accordant  harmony  with  the  decrees  of  Baltimore,  is  obvious  from  a 
cursory  comparison.     The  Archbishops  say: 

"  Besolved,  To  promote  the  erection  of  CathoHc  schools,  so  that 
there  may  be  accommodation  in  them,  if  possible,  for  all  our  Catho- 
lic children,  according  to  the  decrees  of  the  Third  Plenary  Council 
of  Baltimore  and  the  decisions  of  the  Holy  See." 

And  the  Council  of  Baltimore  in  decree  199,  page  104,  ordains  as 
follows: 

"  We  enact  and  decree : 

"  {a)  That  attached  to  each  and  every  church,  where  such  does  not 
exist,  within  two  years  from  the  promulgation  of  this  Council,  a 
parochial  school  shall  be  erected  and  perpetually  maintained,  unless 
the  Bishop  on  account  of  grave  difficulties  should  judge  it  necessary 
to  defer  the  erection. 

"  ih)  That  the  priest,  who  by  his  grave  neglect,  prevents  within 
that  time  the  erection  or  the  support  of  such  school,  or  who,  after 
repeated  admonitions  from  the  Bishop,  does  n9t  provide  for  the 
erection  and  support  of  such  school  attached  to  his  church,  deserves 
to  be  removed  from  that  church." 

From  these  utterances,  reaffirmed  by  both  Delegate  and  Arch- 
bishops, it  seems  clear  that  any  accommodation  contemplated  with 
the  State  cannot  be  regarded  as  a  subversion  of  the  decrees  of  Balti- 
more, nor  as  a  system  running  pari  passu  with  the  system  enjoined 
by  the  Plenary  Council;  nor  a  system  whose  adoption  depends 
merely  on  the  option  of  Catholic  parents,  so  that  with  equal  freedom 
they  may  choose  between  a  parochial  or  a  public  school.  On  such 
supposition  the  decrees  of  Baltimore  would  be  inane  and  absurd. 


250 

We  take  it,  then,  that  the  spirit  and  tenor  of  Mgr.  SatoUi's  address 
are  not  mihtant  against  the  spirit  and  purpose  of  our  legislation  for 
the  last  forty  years,  but  express,  as  the  primary  aim  of  the  Holy 
Father,  the  urgency  of  providing  religious  instruction  for  the  great 
number  of  Catholic  children  now  attending  the  public  schools  in 
the  United  States.  But  it  by  no  means  follows  that  the  Apostolic 
Delegate  considers  it  a  matter  of  indifference  whether  Catholic 
parents  use  parochial  or  public  schools  for  their  children.  True,  he 
says,  that,  abstractly  speaking,  there  is  no  repugnance  in  learning 
arts  and  sciences  in  the  schools  of  the  State.  The  most  unflinching 
opponent  of  State  interference  in  education  would  not  claim  such 
abstract  repugnance.  I  may  not  have  the  right  to  express  certain 
opinions,  but  it  does  not  follow  that  others  do  wrong  when  they 
read  what  I  have  expressed.  True,  he  says,  confessors  should  not, 
with  little  prudence,  repel  those  children  who,  in  force  of  circum- 
stances, attend  public  schools,  but  should,  on  the  contrary,  show 
more  love  for  them.  This  is  only  an  expression  of  the  spirit  of 
Christ,  who  left  the  ninety  and  nine  in  the  desert  and  sought  out  the 
one  that  was  lost. 

But  it  is  to  be  remarked,  that  he  declares  the  one  thing  necessary, 
beyond  all  doubt,  is  moral  and  religious  instruction  according  to 
Catholic  principles;  that  the  Catholic  Church  shrinks  from  those 
features  of  the  public  schools  which  are  opposed  to  the  truth  of 
Christianity  and  to  morality;  that  the  public  schools  bear  within 
themselves  approximate  danger  to  faith  and  morals;  that  these 
schools  often  work  the  ruin  of  youth,  because  a  purely  secular  edu- 
cation, which  excludes  all  religion,  is  given  to  the  pupils;  because 
teachers  are  indiscriminately  chosen  from  every  sect  and  no  law  pro- 
hibits them  from  instilling  error  or  the  germs  of  vice  in  tender 
minds,  and  because  of  the  promiscuous  mingling  of  pupils  of  dif- 
ferent sexes  in  the  same  classes  and  the  same  rooms. 

In  order,  therefore,  that  any  accommodation  with  the  municipal 
authorities  may  be  considered  as  available,  these  objectionable  feat- 
urea  must  be  removed,  else  neither  priest,  bishop,  nor  parent  can 
entertain  the  thought  of  selecting  for  children  the  educational  ad- 
vantages offered  by  the  State.  The  distinguished  Delegate  thinks 
they  are  removable,  at  least  in  given  localities.  Per  se,  they  are 
everywhere  removable,  but  as  a  matter  of  practice  the  excision  is 


251 

difficult  in  many  places,  and  impossible  in  others.  In  many  schools 
of  which  the  writer  has  personal  knowledge,  the  teachers  are  avowed 
infidels,  and  scruple  not,  even  in  the  presence  of  their  pupils,  to  scoff 
at  God  and  Christianity.  The  public  school,  as  managed  in  many 
other  places,  while  professedly  Christian,  or  non-sectarian,  is  either  a 
propaganda  for  Protestantism,  or  the  open  enemy  of  the  Catholic 
Church.  Wm.  P.  Thompson,  of  Cleveland,  Ohio,  characterized  the 
efforts  of  those  who  sought  to  introduce  religion  into  the  schools,  as 
an  attempt  to  prostitute  the  free  institutions  of  the  land  to  the  uses 
of  the  convent  and  the  monastery. 

But  even  if  most  of  the  objectionable  features  are  removed,  and 
the  proximate  danger  to  faith  and  morals  be  rendered  securely 
remote,  the  one  great  distinguishing  feature  of  our  common  school 
education,  its  purely  secular  character,  will  remain  so  long  as  public 
sentiment  and  opinion  and  mistaken  theories  of  the  religious  liberty 
guaranteed  by  the  Constitution  remain  what  they  now  are.  To 
legitimize,  therefore,  any  arrangement  by  which  the  public  school 
may,  tuta  conscientia,  be  resorted  to  by  Catholics,  the  moral  and  relig- 
ious education  insisted  by  the  Church  must  be  provided  for  elsewhere. 
Hence  both  parents  and  pastors  are  urgently  admonished  of  the  duty 
of  devising  means,  appointing  times,  and  employing  agencies  for  the 
imparting  of  instruction  in  faith  and  morals  to  those  children  who  are 
in  daily  attendance  at  the  public  schools.  The  Mgr.  points  several 
plans  by  whose  operation  such  religious  instruction  would  be  facili- 
tated through  the  intervention  and  favorable  disposition  of  the  secular 
authorities.  It  is  not  for  us  to  criticise  these  plans,  but  it  is  lawful 
and  decorous  to  remark  that  such  benignant  disposition  on  the  part 
of  school  boards  will  be  extremely  difficult  of  attainment  in  places 
where  Protestantism  or  infidelity  are  in  the  ascendency.  A  forcible 
and  pertinent  illustration  of  this  fact,  is  the  repudiation  of  Arch- 
bishop Ireland  in  the  house  of  his  friends. 

But  given  such  a  case  as  this  :  In  the  community  of  N.  exists  a 
parochial  school,  in  nowise  inferior  in  similar  grades  to  the  pubhc 
school  of  the  same  place.  This  parish  school  is  wholly  adequate  to 
the  wants  of  the  people,  of  whatever  rank  or  station,  is  free  and  ac- 
cessible to  all.  Two  queries  follow  :  First,  is  the  mere  desire  of  the 
people  to  rid  themselves  of  the  task  of  maintaining  the  school, 
though  able  to  do  so,  sufficient  reason  for  making  an  accommodation 


252 

with  the  local  government  looking  to  the  use  of  the  public  school, 
and  adopting  the  doubtful  expedient  of  religious  instruction  at 
home,  or  throwing  the  burden  of  such  instruction  on  an  overworked 
parish  priest  ?  We  hope  not;  but  some  opine  that  Mgr.  SatoUi's 
document  would  justify  such  course. 

Secondly,  where  no  such  accommodation  exists,  or  is  not  con- 
sidered because  of  the  existence  of  the  parish  school,  are  individuals 
at  liberty  to  send  their  children,  according  to  their  option,  or  ca- 
price, to  the  parochial  school  or  to  the  public  school,  the  conditions 
of  the  schools  being  the  same  ?  Again,  we  hope  not,  and  we  believe 
not.  Some,  like  Dr.  McGlynn,  think  the  force  of  Mgr.  Satolli's  ad- 
dress is  to  sweep  all  parochial  schools  out  of  existence,  and  such, 
indeed,  its  effect  would  unquestionably  be,  if  there  existed  no  obli- 
gation on  the  part  of  parents  to  send  their  children  to  the  parish 
school,  in  the  circumstances  above  described.  But  the  document 
of  the  Papal  Representative  has  no  such  force,  and  no  such  mean- 
ing. Why  should  we  build  schools  at  all,  if  parents  are  not  bound 
to  support  and  maintain  them  ?  It  is  not;  so  much  money  as  chil- 
dren that  make  a  school,  though  both  are  necessary.  But  according 
to  Mgr.  Satolli's  scheme,  it  stiU  lies,  and  will  continue  to  lie,  within 
the  competence  of  each  Bishop,  to  decide  whether  parochial  schools 
are  to  be  maintained,  and  how  they  are  to  be  conducted  in  his  par- 
ticular diocese,  and  this,  so  far  as  the  majority  of  the  Bishops  are 
concerned,  gives  the  quietus  to  the  Faribault  Plan  in  their  respective 
dioceses,  for  they  have  decided  that  Catholic  schools  can  and  shall 
be  built,  and  can  and  shall  be  operated  according  to  those  views 
which  have  been  approved  and  tried  with  distinguished  success  for 
half  a  century  in  this  country. 

We  are  of  those  who  think  it  to  be  the  mind  of  the  Holy  Father, 
while  holding  intact  the  great  principle  of  Catholic  education,  to 
provide  for  the  religious  teaching  of  the  great  number  of  children 
who  now  attend  the  public  schools.  Nothing  but  a  perverted  and 
distorted  interpretation  of  Mgr.  Satolli's  declarations  can  make  them 
destructive  of  the  principle,  or  the  policy  for  which  Catholics  have 
contended  for  so  many  years  in  this  land;  which  Councils,  Synods, 
and  Conferences  have  proclaimed;  which  Popes  have  ratified  and 
commended,  and  which  the  great  body  of  the  hierarchy,  including 
Archbishops,    Bishops,    and    simple   priests,  have   inculcated   with 


253 

singular  unanimity  of  opinion  for  more  than  half  a  century — the  ab- 
solute necessity  of  parochial  schools  to  save  the  young  generation  to 
country.  Church,  and  God.  At  present  we  seem  to  be  at  the  part- 
ing of  the  ways.  We  are  groping  in  the  dark,  and  we  need  more 
light  from  the  Vatican.  When  that  voice  which  speaks  as  neither 
Canterbury  nor  Constantinople  speaks,  decisively  and  definitely,  all 
will  listen  and  all  will  obey;  and  we  confidently  hope,  as  we  earnestly 
pray,  that  the  inspired  utterance  of  the  Archbishops  and  the  united 
hopes  of  ten-twelfths  of  the  Bishops  of  the  country  will  be 
thundered  back  to  us  in  the  Veedict  of  the  Vatican. 


A  ROMAN  CATHOLIC  ON  THE  SCHOOL  QUESTION. 

(From  the  Boonton  Bulletin.) 

The  writer  has  been  asked  to  set  forth  the  Koman  Catholic  view  of 
the  educational  question  and  he  yields  cheerful  compliance,  for  the 
reason  that  his  experience  all  over  the  United  States  has  taught  him 
what  monumental  misconception  prevails  upon  the  subject  amongst 
many  not  of  the  Catholic  communion.  To  explain  this  view  in  a 
single  newspaper  article  is  about  as  easy  as  to  jump  over  a  hole  in 
two  jumps,  or  "  to  make  bricks  without  straw."  But  a  very  con- 
densed statement  may  be  given,  or  we  may  recur  to  the  subject 
again. 

The  question  has  two  aspects, — the  one  religious,  the  other  polit- 
ical. We  shall  briefly  touch  on  both.  The  writer  is  profoundly  sen- 
sible of  the  difficulties  that  environ  the  elucidation  of  the  educational 
problem.  As  to  the  religious  side  of  the  subject,  he  prefers  to  state 
the  case  in  the  words  of  a  brilliant  essayist  and  Protestant  divine  of 
high  distinction,  the  Rev.  J.  Minot  Savage,  of  Boston.  This  may 
serve  to  disarm  prejudice  and  exclude  carping  criticism.  As  we 
quote  from  memory,  we  cannot  give  Dr.  Savage's  ipsissima  verba,  but 
we  can  give  his  gist  and  substance.  Dr.  Savage  is  fair-minded 
enough  to  say:  "  We  must  give  Catholics  the  credit  of  sincerity. 
When  they  tell  us  they  cannot,  for  conscientious  reasons,  accept  the 
education  imparted  in  the  public  schools,  we  are  bound  to  believe 
them.  We  have  no  proof  that  they  are  lying.  All  the  facts  are  in 
favor  of  their  honesty  and  sincerity.  If  I  were  a  Catholic,  as  I  am 
a  Protestant,  I  would  regard  it  as  the  most  intolerable  tyranny  to  be 
compelled  to  pay  taxes  in  support  of  a  system  which  I  believed  not 
only  hostile  to,  but  subversive  of,  the  religion  I  deemed  indispensable 
to  the  eternal  salvation  of  my  children." 

These  are  strong  words,  and  they  are  true.  Now,  Dr.  Savagejis 
not  the  enemy,  but  the  fast  friend  of  the  public  school  system.     He 


255 

would  not  destroy,  but  perfect  it.  He  would,  as  he  thinks,  make  it 
of  universal  acceptability  by  the  excision  of  all  objectionable  feat- 
ures, for  he  considers  that  the  system  is  in  danger  so  long  as  a 
single  objection  can  be  urged  against  it  on  the  score  of  conscience. 
And  hence,  he  proceeds:  "Let  us  be  just,  let  us  be  fair.  Let  us 
carefully  remove  everything  from  the  system  that  intrenches  upon 
the  Roman  Catholic  conscience,  or  upon  any  other  conscience. 
Then  we  shall  make  the  public  school  impregnable  to  all  assault." 

"  It  matters  not  whether  public  school  education  be  made  such  as 
to  satisfy  either  Presbyterians,  or  Episcopalians,  or  Methodists,  or 
Jews,  or  Catholics.  The  question  is,  is  it  fair,  is  it  just,  does  it  re- 
spect the  conscience  of  every  one  ?  If  so,  it  is  unassailable  from 
any  quarter."  Thus  far  it  is  well.  Amen !  we  say  with  all  our  heart. 
But  how  shall  it  be  done  ?  Ay  !  there's  the  rub.  Dr.  Savage  thinks 
it  very  easy — nothing  simpler.  "We  have  merely  to  teach  morality 
without  teaching  religion. 

At  this  point  we  fear  we  stand  where  Telemachus  stood  with  Mi- 
nerva— at  the  parting  of  the  roads — and  we  have  to  dissolve  partner- 
ship with  our  lai'ge-minded  Minerva,  Dr.  Savage, 

Dr.  Savage  proposes  a  theoretical  and  practical  impossibility, 
from  the  Catholic  standpoint.  We  are  not  arguing  that  Catholics 
are  right.  That  is  not  the  point  up  for  discussion.  The  question  is, 
are  their  views  entitled  to  respect  ?  Dr.  Savage,  like  every  honest 
man,  thinks  they  are.  So  are  the  views  of  Protestants  of  all  denom- 
inations, the  views  of  Jews,  and  even  of  infidels,  in  a  purely  secular 
State.  But  what  right  has  the  Doctor  to  impose  secularism  upon  the 
Catholic,  any  more  than  the  Catholic  has  to  impose  Catholicity  upon 
the  secularist  or  the  Protestant  ?  He  begs  the  question,  for,  while 
he  admits  the  public  school  system,  as  it  is,  violates  the  sanctuary  of 
the  conscience,  he  assumes  that  his  amended  system  does  not  do  so, 
despite  the  assertion  of  the  Catholic  to  the  contrary.  The  amend- 
ment itself  is  on  trial,  and  the  Catholic  wiU  have  none  of  it.  The 
Doctor  respects  conscience. 

Besides,  the  Catholic  has  "  a  reason  for  the  faith  that  is  in  him." 
He  knows  that  the  attempt  to  teach  morality  without  religion  is  a 
palpable  absurdity.  If  we  are  to  build  a  temple  of  education,  we 
are  not  to  bum  down  the  house  of  God.  Without  God  there  can  be 
no  commonwealth,  no  state,  no  education,  and  no  morality.    The  thun- 


256 

ders  of  Sinai  and  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  were  quite  superfluous, 
if  morality  could  be  taught  efficiently  without  the  light  of  revelation. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  no  people  ever  yet  established  anything  but  a 
truncated  and  mutilated  code  of  morality  without  the  aid  of  revela- 
tion. Dr.  McCosh  and  Cardihal  Newman,  the  one  a  Protestant,  the 
other  a  Catholic,  are  agreed  upon  this  point.  But  revelation  is  re- 
ligion, and  if  morality  cannot  be  taught  without  revelation,  so  neither 
can  it  be  taught  without  religion. 

Now,  the  Catholic  believes  (I  don't  ask  if  he  be  right,  but  only  if  his 
belief  is  entitled  to  respect  ?),  that,  as  there  is  but  "  one  Lord,  one 
faith,  one  baptism,  one  God  and  Father  of  all,"  so  there  can  be  but  one 
true  religion.  And  he  believes  that  he  is  in  possession  of  that  true 
religion,  the  "  deposit  of  faith  once  delivered  to  the  saints."  He 
believes,  moreover,  that  he  has  to  profess  and  practice  it ;  to  incul- 
cate it  into  the  minds  of  his  children,  as  he  hopes  himself  for  sal- 
vation. For  this  reason,  he  regards  the  primary  instruction  of  his 
children,  as  he  hopes  himself  for  salvation.  For  this  reason,  he  re- 
gards the  primary  instruction  of  his  children  as  essentially  religious. 
All  other  teaching  is  subsidiary  to  the  religious  element.  With  the 
Catholic  it  is  axiomatic,  that  knowledge,  as  such  merely,  is  an  empty 
shade  ;  that  learning,  as  such,  is  of  small  account  ;  the  principal 
thing  is  wisdom,  and  the  "  fear  of  the  Lord  is  the  beginning  of  wis- 
dom." Not,  indeed,  the  wisdom  of  the  world,  but  "the  wisdom 
which  maketh  wise  unto  salvation."  To  know  nature  in  all  her  ways 
and  laws  ;  to  sift  the  bowels  of  the  earth,  and  dive  into  the  recesses 
of  the  sea ;  to  measure  the  path  of  the  sun  in  the  firmament  ;  to 
trace  the  comet  in  his  fiery  track,  and  count  th^  courses  of  the 
stars  ;  to  know  how  to  construct  shining  monuments  of  material 
prosperity  which  shall  defy  the  tooth  of  time  and  mock  the  fingers 
of  decay  ;  to  know,  in  fine,  all  knowledge,  sa\e  the  knowledge  of 
God,  seems,  in  Catholic  eyes,  to  be  the  principal  trend  and  aim  of 
modern  education. 

For  this  reason,  he  builds  his  own  schools,  and  though  for  the 
most  part  poor,  he  makes  the  sacrifices  necessary  to  support  them, 
even  though  he  is  compelled  to  pay  into  the  public  treasury  for  the 
maintenance  of  a  system,  whose  fruits  he  cannot  enjoy.  This  is 
hard,  this  is  burdensome,  and  if  conviction  did  not  bear  him  along, 
he  could  never  endure  it.     Sacrifice  is  the  test  of  sincerity.     Is  the 


257 

Oatholic  sincere?  Ask  what  it  costs  to  educate  40,000  Catholic 
children  in  the  parochial  schools  of  New  Jersey. 

Is  the  Catholic  right  ?  Well,  if  to  educate  is  to  unfold  the  full 
contents  of  the  man,  and  if  man  is  a  religious  being,  how  eliminate 
religion  from  any  curriculum  of  education?  If  morality  is  that 
science  which  teaches  man  his  duty  towards  his  fellow-man,  surely 
it  cannot  exclude  in  its  teachings  the  solemn  sanctions  of  the  religion 
of  Christ,  which  lend  force  and  vitality  to  all  the  social  virtues, — 
charity,  chastity,  justice,  truth,  integrity.  If  there  is  a  God,  man 
surely  has  some  duties  towards  Him.  And  why  has  any  man  duties 
towards  his  fellow-men,  except  because  he  has  duties  towards  his 
God?  What  is  duty,  anyhow?  What  is  it,  but  what  God  com- 
manded ;  and  it  is  duty  precisely  because  He  has  commanded /it.  If, 
then,  education  is  to  teach  man  morality,  it  must  teach  man  his  duty 
towards  God,  and  that  is  to  teach  religion. 

Is  the  Catholic  right  ?  Well,  a  good  many  non-Catholics  think  so. 
I  am  glad  to  see  such  men  as  the  Protestant  Bishop  of  Derry,  and 
Rabbi  Silverman,  in  New  York,  urging  cogently  the  necessity  of  re- 
ligion in  the  State.  I  am  glad  they  stand  up  against  secularism. 
Nothing  was  farther  from  the  staunch  old  Puritan  mind  than  the 
attempt  to  impart  education  without  religion.  The  Puritan,  as  well 
as  the  Catholic,  stood  up  against  a  creedless  and  a  Christless  Christi- 
anity. 

Is  the  Catholic  right  ?  The  late  Dr.  Hodge,  of  Princeton,  was  a 
Presbyterian  of  unsuspected  orthodoxy,  and  just  before  he  died 
('twas  like  the  nt)te  of  the  dying  swan),  he  said  :  '*  Shall  not  aU  of 
US,  who  reaUy  beHeve  in  God,  thank  Him  that  He  has  presei-ved  the 
Eoman  Catholic  Church  in  this  country,  true  to  that  theory  of  edu- 
cation upon  which  our  fathers  first  founded  the  public  schools,  and 
which  has  been  so  strangely  pei'verted  ?  " 

The  Catholic  is  not  opposed  to  public  education.  He  has  no 
quarrel  with  the  public  school  system  as  a  system.  As  a  citizen  and 
tax-payer,  he  is  like  every  other  citizen,  free  to  criticise  its  shortcom- 
ings, if  he  pleases.  But  he  believes  in  education.  He  believes  it 
should  be  universal,  and  embrace  every  child  in  the  land.  He  holds, 
for  certain  classes  and  cases,  education  should  be  compulsory.  He 
believes  it  should  be  warmly  and  generously  supported  by  aU  who 
are  free  to  enjoy  its  benefits  and  fruits.  But  he  does  not  believe 
17 


258 

that  any  educational  system  should  invade  the  claims  of  conscience ; 
he  does  not  believe  a  man  should  be  taxed  for  what  can  yield  him 
absolutely  no  return  ;  he  does  not  believe  that  education  can,  might, 
could,  would,  or  should  be  taught  without  religion  ;  and  finally,  he 
does  not  believe  that  it  was  ever  held  in  contemplation  by  the 
Fathers  of  the  Republic,  when  founding  our  common  rights  and 
liberties,  thai  freedom  of  religion  should  be  synonymous  with  freedom 
from  religion. 

Democracy  or  Republicanism  taken,  not  in  a  party,  but  a  broad 
sense,  means  the  minimum  of  government.  The  only  principle, 
therefore,  on  which  free,  public  education  by  the  State  can  be  justi- 
fied in  a  Democracy,  is  the  necessity  for  producing  intelligent  citi- 
zens and  competent  voters.  A  vote  is,  in  its  nature,  a  recognition 
of  man's  liberty,  intelligence,  and  responsibility.  It  implies  that  man 
is  not  an  isolated  being,  but  a  social  unit,  and  a  factor  in  political 
society.  The  ballot  is  the  outward  embodiment  of  the  principle  so 
tersely  set  forth  in  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  of  man's  equal- 
ity with  man.  It  gives  to  man  an  efficacious  voice  in  assertion  of 
the  maxim  that  "  government  derives  its  just  power  from  the  consent 
of  the  governed."  It  supposes  man  to  be  a  free,  rational,  self-gov- 
erning creature,  endowed  with  the  same  natural  rights  as  his  fellow- 
creatures,  and  uncontrolled  by  them,  except  in  so  far  as  he  consents 
to  subjection.  Popular  suffrage  is,  consequently,  not  only  an 
acknowledgment  of  man's  natural  rights,  but  also  a  means  of  ex- 
citing his  intelligence,  awakening  his  individual  activity,  arousing 
his  interest  in  all  that  concerns  the  common  weal,  by  affording  him 
exercise  of  those  faculties  which  constitute  the  nobilitj^  of  his  man- 
hood and  make  him  the  peer  of  his  fellows.  Every  voter  is  a  ruler, 
because  every  vote  is  a  voice.  Here  applies  the  aphoristic  declaration, 
so  dear  to  every  American  heart,  that  ours  is  "  a  government  of  the 
people,  by  the  people,  and  for  the  people." 

The  Constitution  of  the  United  States,  one  of  the  finest  works  of 
human  intelligence,  is  the  outcome  of  the  political  wisdom  of  ages. 
But,  after  all,  it  adds  nothing  either  to  the  nature  of  man,  or  to  his 
natural  rights;  it  only  affirms  them  more  forcibly  than  they  were  as- 
serted before;  or  to  use  the  poet's  idea,  it  declares  with  emphasis, 

**  What  oft  was  thought,  but  ne'er  so  well  expressed." 


259 

It  is,  perhaps,  worthy  of  note  in  passing,  that  Pope  Zachary,  cen- 
turies ago,  affirmed  the  pohtical  maxim  of  Thomas  Jefferson  con- 
cerning the  equal  rights  of  men  to  Hfe,  Hbei-tj,  and  the  pursuit  of 
happiness.  It  may  seem  curious  to  the  modern  sciolist  to  find  that 
St.  Thomas  Aquinas,  the  great  doctor  of  the  thirteenth  century,  laid 
down  such  maxims  as  the  following:  "The  constitution  (of  the 
State)  ought  to  combine  a  limited  and  elective  monarchy,  and  such 
admixture  of  democracy  as  shall  admit  all  classes  to  office  by  pop- 
ular election.  The  whole  nation  ought  to  have  a  share  in  governing 
itself.  No  government  has  a  right  to  levy  taxes  beyond  the  hmit  de- 
termined by  the  people.  All  political  authority  is  derived  from  pop- 
ular suffrage,  and  all  laws  must  be  made  by  the  people  or  then*  rep- 
resentatives. There  is  no  security  for  us,  so  long  as  we  depend  on 
the  will  of  another  man."     But  to  return. 

If  it  be  undeniable  that  under  a  Rei^ubhc  self-preseiTation  is  the 
raison  d'etre  of  free  education  by  the  State,  that  she  may  thus  keep 
alive  the  principle  of  continuous  existence,  and  exercise  her  right  and 
correlative  duty  of  safe-guarding  society  against  anarchy  and  despot- 
ism, twin  daughters  of  ignorance,  it  follows,  "  as  the  night  the  day," 
that  State  interference  in  the  direct  domain  of  education  must  be  a 
matter  of  manifest  necessity.  I  say  necessity,  as  distinguished  from 
utihty;  for  as  Aristotle  and  others  have  observed,  not  everything 
that  is  useful  to  the  weU-being  of  the  State,  may  be  directly  pro- 
curable by  the  State.  It  is  not  the  function  of  the  State  to  meddle 
in  domestic  concerns  of  families,  nor  to  trench  in  any  way  upon  nat- 
ural rights,  however  useful  it  might  be  to  do  so.  It  is  the  business 
of  the  State  to  conserve  public  ordei',  and  promote  the  peace  and 
happiness  of  society  by  all  lawful  means  within  its  sphere.  But  the 
State  cannot  dictate  to  the  individual  what  he  shall  eat  or  read  ; 
when  he  shall  sleep  or  rise;  how  he  shall  marry  or  whom  he 
shaU  wed.  It  is  the  proud  boast  of  the  American  that  no  minion 
of  the  law  shall  cross  his  threshold  except  by  his  permission, 
so  long  as  he  commits  no  breach  of  public  peace.  Nor  is  ed- 
ucation an  essential  function  of  State,  but  one  based  upon  ne- 
cessity, and  that  necessity  is  founded  upon  fact.  The  fact  furnishes 
the  title  to  the  right.  But  what  is  that  fact  ?  Undoubtedly  it  is  the 
neglect  of  those  who  are  primarily  charged  with  the  duty  of  edu- 
cating children — namely,  their  parents.     I  need  not  cite  from  Black- 


260 

stone,  Kent,  Wayland,  or  legists  and  publicists,  to  show  that  educa- 
tion is  a  parental  right.  In  default  of  the  parent,  the  State  steps  in, 
in  loco  parentis,  as  the  lawyers  say. 

From  these  premises  it  follows  that  although  the  State  may  sup- 
plement, it  cannot  supplant  the  parent,  nor  strip  him  of  his  rights  in 
the  education  of  his  children.  It  logically  follows,  both  from  the 
principle  of  parental  precedence,  and  from  the  accepted  axiom  of 
democracy,  that  a  democratic  State  should  not  assume  to  do  what 
may  more  properly  and  effectually  be  done  by  individual  enterprise, 
because  that  would  be  increasing  the  functions  of  government  and 
imposing  taxes  without  necessity;  and  I  have  shown  that  the  fact  of 
necessity  is  the  justification  of  the  State's  activity  in  the  province  of 
education.  Whenever  private  zeal  has  undertaken  the  work  of  edu- 
cation, the  functions  of  the  State  should  be  limited  to  inspection,  su- 
pervision, or  the  encouragement  of  individual  effort.  This  may  be 
done  by  grant  of  funds,  or  by  some  system  of  taxation;  such  sub- 
vention to  be  given  in  a  secular  State,  not  for  religious  teaching,  but 
for  secular  results  only.  In  that  case,  the  State,  like  any  other  em- 
ployer, would  pay  wages  for  work  properly  done. 

But  as  to  the  fact  of  necessity,  does  it  ever  exist?  In  other 
words,  do  parents  perform  their  duty  to  their  children  in  all  cases, 
as  they  are  bound  by  natural  and  divine  law  ?  I  am  sorry  to  say 
they  do  not,  and  so  long  as  a  single  chUd  in  the  community  would 
grow  up  without  an  elementary  education,  I,  for  my  part,  would  jus- 
tify a  public  school  for  his  instruction,  and  would  gladly  pay  taxes  to 
support  it.  Voluntary  effort,  as  experience  shows,  in  every  country, 
and  especially  in  England  before  the  founding  of  the  "Board 
Schools,"  is  insu£&cient  to  educate  the  children  of  the  whole  nation, 
to  say  nothing  of  the  children  of  poor  and  indigent  parents,  for 
whom  public  provision  must  be  made.  The  State  has,  besides,  the 
right  and  duty  to  protect  itself  from  the  vice,  corruption,  and  igno- 
rance of  its  future  citizens,  and  to  see  that  they  are  trained  as  compe- 
tent and  intelligent  voters. 

But  if  free  education  by  the  State  has  for  its  end  and  aim  the 
qualification  of  the  voter  for  his  task  of  continuing  the  work  of  gov- 
ernment by  the  generation  of  intelligent  citizens,  it  is  evident  that 
this  end  should  mark  the  limitations  of  the  education  to  be  given  by 
the  State.     It  is  clear  that  it  is  not  the  business  of  the  State  to  pro- 


261 

duce  skilled  mechanics,  nor  finished  artists,  nor  professional  experts, 
nor  cultured  gentlemen,  nor  ready-made  statesmen.  This  would  be- 
get unequal  taxation,  and  unequal  taxation  is  un-American  in  principle. 
Witness  the  College  of  the  City  of  New  York,  which  costs  nearly 
$300,000  annually  to  educate  the  children  of  wealthy  Hebrews. 
Neither  should  public  schools  be  devised  for  the  purpose  of  provid- 
ing lucrative  places  for  learned  professors  at  the  common  expense. 
Schools  are  not  for  the  benefit  of  teachers,  but  primarily  and  essen- 
tially for  the  benefit  of  scholars.  In  a  word,  common  schools  should 
be  what  they  were  originally  designed  to  be,  elementary  and  not 
academical.  If  the  child  is  to  become  an  intelligent  citizen  and 
voter,  he  should  undeniably  be  furnished  the  ordinary  means  of 
communication  with  his  fellow-men.  The  child  should  be  taught 
reading,  vnriting,  arithmetic,  grammar,  geography,  free-hand  draw- 
ing, the  history  of  his  country,  and  some  knowledge  of  the  laws  and 
constitution  under  which  he  lives.  There  may  be  room  for  discus- 
sion as  to  details,  but  the  above  should  mark  the  general  limit  of 
free  public  education. 

Moreover,  in  a  secular  State  the  government  should  neither  favor 
nor  proscribe  any  reUgion,  but  should  hold  itself  with  equal  poise 
towards  all.  This  does  not  mean  that  religion  should  be  excluded^  ioit 
the  State  does  not  maintain  its  neutrality  towards  religion  when  it 
wipes  out  religion.  But  when  I  say  the  State  should  favor  no  re- 
Ugion, it  is  not  to  be  inferred  that  I  look  on  #ie  Government  of  the 
United  States  as  pagan,  or  that  the  above  principle  holds  for  a 
Christian  State  or  a  Christian  people. 

Let  us  go  back  to  first  principles.  We  are  not  State  socialists, 
but  political  individualists.  We  don't  want  the  State  to  establish 
our  banks,  build  our  railroads,  dig  our  mines,  develop  our  agricul- 
ture, or  do  anything  that  private  enterprise  and  the  "  unbought 
energy "  of  the  people  can  do  without  let  or  hindrance  from  the 
State.  There  is  a  large  party  in  this  country,  who,  alas  !  care  noth- 
ing for  religion,  but  they  do  care  for  a  simplification  of  the  function 
of  government;  they  do  care  for  the  principles  of  pure  democracy, 
and  they  do  incessantly  battle  against  everything  that  has  a  tendency 
to  the  centralization  of  power,  or  wears  an  aspect  of  the  absolutism 
and  Csesarism  of  past  ages. 

In  the  United  States  the  district  school,  it  is  needless  to  say,  had 


262 

its  birth  in  Massachusetts,  with  the  foundation  of  the  first  settle- 
ments, and  that  the  school  system  has  advanced  far  in  excess  of  our 
growth  in  other  respects,  cannot  be  gainsaid  by  any  one  who  has 
given  attentive  consideration  to  the  subject.  The  reason  is  not  far 
to  seek.  Two  factors  are  chiefly  concerned  in  this  abnormal  devel- 
opment, and  they  are  the  politicians  and  the  pedagogues.  For  the 
latter  class  I  have  profound  respect.  They  are  the  most  enlightened 
body  in  the  land  to-day.  They  are  doing  an  admirable  work,  but 
they  aspire  too  high.  1  do  not  question  their  sincerity,  but  I  ^vould 
respectfully  remind  them  that  we  live  under  a  democracy,  whose 
cardinal  principle  is  that  the  least  government  is  the  best  govern- 
ment. I  am  exceedingly  prone  to  doubt  whether  there  be  any  pop- 
ular demand  back  of  all  this  amplification  and  extension  of  free  ed- 
ucation by  the  public,  which  taxes  the  many  for  the  benefit  of  the 
few.  The  plan  has  been  perfected  by  the  teachers  and  sedulously 
fostered  by  the  politicians,  who  fail  not  to  perceive  the  immense 
patronage  afforded  by  the  system.  The  method  of  the  teachers  is 
that  of  Horace  Mann,  the  real  founder  of  the  system — organized 
agitation — and  the  scheme  is  pushed  with  tireless  assiduity  by  the 
pedagogues  in  their  local  associations,  with  a  National  Bureau,  of 
centralizing  tendencies,  at  Washington,  whose  aim  it  is  to  force  the 
educational  work  all  along  the  lines,  supported  by  pecuniary  assist- 
ance from  the  National  Government.  Now,  against  public  education, 
within  specified  limits#and  for  certain  classes,  I  have  not  the  most 
distant  objection  to  offer.  But  it  is  worthy  of  remembrance  by 
every  American  voter,  that,  according  to  the  spirit  of  our  Constitu- 
tion, taxes  can  be  levied  only  for  those  things  which  are  vital  to  the 
well-being  of  the  State.  Why  should  Smith  be  taxed  that  Jones' 
boy  may  learn  "  how  concepts  are  formed,"  or  "  what  is  the  differ- 
ence between  illusion  and  hallucination,"  or  "how  to  classify  the 
emotions,"  or  "  what  was  Shelley's  personal  appearance,"  any  more 
than  he  should  be  taxed  that  Jones,  Jr.,  might  learn  to  ride  a  bicycle 
or  play  baccarat  ?  I'm  sure  I  don't  know.  Not  so  long  ago  it  was  pro- 
posed by  a  sagacious  member  of  a  Chicago  school  board  to  have  a 
lady  appointed  to  take  charge  of  the  children's  wraps  and  clothing, 
lest  the  scholars  might  catch  the  influenza;  and  somebody  down  in 
Gotham  opined  that  pupils  should  be  furnished  with  tickets  on  the 
elevated  railroad,  and  of  course,  free  lunches  and  Thanksgiving 
turkeys  would  follow,  as  a  necessary  consequence.  But  of  this  enough. 


263 

I  am  painfully  conscious  that  it  is  a  delicate  thing  for  a  Catholic 
to  offer  any  criticism  on  the  public  schools.  Some  sinister  design  is 
suspected.  Any  one  else  is  free  to  handle  the  subject  as  he  chooses, 
but  when  the  CathoHc  ventures  to  explain  his  views,  one  word  of 
censure  is  construed  as  of  a  piece  with  the  attempt  to  pull  down  the 
American  flag.     Let  me  state,  then,  what  Cathohcs  don't  want. 

They  do  not  want  to  control  the  public  school  system  of  the  coun- 
trj,  but  rather  to  be  relieved  from  it,  in  so  far  as  it  works  injustice 
upon  them. 

They  do  not  want  to  urge  any  war  upon  the  public  schools,  nor  in 
establishing  their  own  are  they  influenced  by  any  spirit  of  hostility 
to  them. 

The  Catholic  don't  seek  any  union  of  Church  and  State. 

The  Catholic  don't  want  his  religion  made  the  religion  of  the  State. 

The  Catholic  does  not  want  any  privileges  or  exemptions  above 
his  fellow-citizens,  and  he  claims  nothing  for  himself  which  he  will 
not  freely  and  fully  accord  to  all  who  differ  from  him  in  opinion  or 
religion;  and  he  believes  that  as  soon  as  the  American  people  see 
this  he  will  get  his  rights,  for  he  has  an  abiding  faith  in  the  fairness 
and  justice  of  the  sons  of  this  Eepublic. 

The  Catholic  has  no  objection  that  the  public  school  system  be 
maintained  without  any  infringement  of  the  rights  of  others  not  en- 
joying it.  He  claims  nothing  for  the  support  of  his  religion  ;  he  solicits 
no  pecuniary  aid  for  the  benefit  of  his  Church.  While  he  seeks  those 
rights  which,  before  God  and  civil  law,  he  beheves  he  is  entitled 
to,  he  recognizes  the  rights  of  others.  He  stands  not  before  the 
pubUc  with  the  debasing  purpose  of  demanding  rights  for  himself 
on  condition  that  wrong  be  done  to  others.  He  simply  thinks  he 
ought  to  be  partaker  with  all  in  the  common  rights  of  all,  and  he 
prefers  that  wrong  be  done  himself  than  that  he  do  wrong  to  others. 

I  believe  that  the  monopoly  enjoyed  by  the  public  schools  is  in 
contravention  of  law.  I  respectfully  submit  that  it  falls  within  the 
purview  of  our  legislation,  that  all  free  schools,  where  all  children, 
without  distinction  of  creed,  color,  or  condition,  are  admitted  and 
instructed  in  the  primary  branches  of  knowledge,  which  are  willing 
to  submit  to  governmental  supervision  and  control,  are  public  schools 
in  the  right  meaning  of  the  phrase. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  one  thing  the  Catholic  believes  with  an  unalter- 


261 

able  conviction  :  that  the  schools  of  any  country,  whose  institutions 
are  worth  preserving,  should  be  nurseries  of  sound  morahty,  as  well 
as  of  literary  knowledge;  that  they  should  in  some  way  inculcate 
those  lessons  of  Christian  virtue,  which  are  conservative  of  social 
order  and  public  happiness,  because  they  derive  their  sanction  from 
the  divine  authority  and  teachings  of  the  Founder  of  Christianity. 
Horace  Mann,  the  father  of  the  school  system  as  it  is,  regarded  the 
man  as  insane  who  would  build  education  upon  infidelity.  It  is  not 
from  the  broken  cisterns  of  human  wisdom,  but  from  the  living 
fountains  of  true  knowledge,  we  are  to  expect  to  draw  those  blessed 
truths  which  improve  the  heart  while  they  enlighten  the  under- 
standing, and  which,  like  so  many  celestial  stars,  cluster  around  the 
great  truth  of  immortaHty. 

Now,  although  the  State,  by  enlightened  and  liberal  legislation, 
has  provided  an  ample  treasury — a  treasury  to  which  we  contribute 
— for  the  support  of  public  schools  under  the  jurisdiction  of  her 
laws,  and  though  every  child  in  the  community  is  rightfully  entitled 
to  a  full,  proportional  pairticipation,  we  find  ourselves  obliged,  from 
motives  of  conscience,  to  decline  the  enjoyment  of  those  educational 
facilities  extended  to  us  by  the  laws,  or  the  construction  of  the  laws 
under  which  we  live,  and  are  thus  compelled  to  make  those  frequent 
appeals  to  the  benevolence  of  our  people  for  the  support  of  our  own 
schools.  And  while  we  patiently  submit  to  this  double  burden,  we 
hope  some  day  to  see  a  more  eligible  and  equitable  school  system 
established.  A  solution  has  been  found  in  Canada,  in  England,  and 
in  Germany.  Are  statesmen  of  America  wanting  in  sagacity  ?  I 
hope  not,  I  believe  not.  This  is  a  Christian  land,  and  our  system  of 
common  school  education  should  recognize  the  principle  that  re- 
ligion, which  is  the  only  basis  of  happiness  and  civilization,  should 
not  be  excluded  from  the  schools  established  in  a  Christian  country. 
Though  I  thank  God  that  I  was  born  in  the  country  of  Washington, 
Hancock,  and  Jefferson,  I  look  with  dismay  upon  the  decline  of  re- 
ligion in  education  ;  and  when  I  behold  a  school  erected  for  edu- 
cation and  rehgion,  I  gaze  upon  it  with  gratitude  and  reverence  as  a 
genuine  triumph  of  intellect,  a  monument  of  public  spiiit  and  intel- 
ligence, and  an  evidence  of  devotion  on  the  part  of  its  promoters  to 
those  pursuits  which  give  to  mind  its  ascendency  over  matter,  and 
to  the  institutions  of  free  men  their  stability  and  perpetuity. 


XL 

EDUCATIOlsr  IN  NEW  JERSEY. 

42  Barclay  St.,  New  York. 
Editor  Freeman's  Journal: 

There  has  been  a  newspaper  discussion  in  a  neighboring  town, 
which,  as  an  old  reader  of  the  Journal,  I  feel  ought  to  be  transferred 
to  your  columns.  Father  Tighe's  statement  of  the  school  question 
was  attacked  by  a  Methodist  clergyman,  and  the  attack  was  rebuked 
by  both  the  editor  and  Father  Tighe. 

Yours  truly, 

T.  D.  Egan. 

The  anti-Catholic  attack  is  as  follows  : 

"  Some  one  essayed  to  give  us  last  week  a  favorable  showing  of 
Koman  Catholic  educational  purposes  through  your  columns.  Allow 
me  to  ask  how  it  comes  about  that  in  a  land  where  it  held  undis- 
puted possession  for  nineteen  and  three-quarter  centuries — the  land 
of  cardinals,  priests,  and  cathedrals,  and  where  the  Pope  himself  sits  in 
state — ^that  seventeen  millions,  of  a  population  of  twenty -five  millions, 
are  found  to  be  absolutely  unable  to  read  or  write?  And  I  wonder 
why  it  is  that  Mexico  and  the  western  parts  of  South  America,  that 
have  for  so  many  centuries  been  under  the  domination  of  Romish 
propaganda,  are  in  such  a  deplorable  condition  at  this  very  hour  ? 

"  How  comes  it  about  that  where  Rome's  sway  is  most  complete, 
there  we  have  as  abject  a  civilization  as  can  be  met  with  on  the 
globe? 

"  If  she  advocates  anything  superior  here,  in  this  grand  common- 
wealth, to  what  she  does  in  Italy,  is  it  not  because  she  is  compelled 
to  do  so  by  virtue  of  the  pressure  that  our  grand  common  school 
system  brings  to  bear  upon  her  ? 

"  How  is  it  that  in  some  of  our  New  England  States,  where  our 


266 

Roman  Catholic  friends  are  in  sufficient  numbers  as  to  control  the 
policy  of  the  school  boards,  that  their  own  ecclesiastics  have  had 
text-books  printed,  in  which  history  is  outraged  by  the  lies  which 
they  seek  to  foist  upon  the  rising  generation  ? 

"  When  Romanists  have  convinced  us  that  they  are  the  friends  of 
truth,  of  liberty,  and  of  education,  it  will  be  time  enough  to  trust 
them.  Till  then,  every  lover  of  all  that  is  sacred  to  humanity,  will 
do  well  to  distrust  whatever  proceeds  from  Rome." 

The  editor's  comment  on  the  above  is  as  follows  : 

"  If  the  questions  in  the  above  had  been  asked  of  us,  we  would 
have  answered  that  we  didn't  know. 

"The  things  that  we  don't  know,  far  exceed  in  number  the  things 
"we  do  know.  Now,  there  is  the  matter  of  school  meeting.  At 
almost  any  other  kind  of  meeting  or  show,  the  citizen  will  go  in, 
take  a  seat,  and  take  in  whatever  is  going  on.  But  when  it  is  school 
meeting,  he  stays  near  the  door.  The  only  other  school  district  in 
which  we  have  had  any  experience  is  the  Powerville  district.  There 
we  used  to  sit  on  two  or  three  of  the  children's  desks  nearest  the 
door,  and  by  the  Hght  of  four  or  five  pipes,  and  one  or  two  lanterns, 
keep  the  taxes  down. 

"  But  we  never  understood  why  the  citizen  objected  to  going  in 
and  taking  a  seat.     Has  any  one  ever  explained  that  matter  ? 

"  These  questions  which  the  reverend  gentleman  asks,  we  have 
often  heard  asked  before,  in  church.  The  answers  to  them,  as  we 
before  remarked,  are  among  the  many  things  unknown  to  us.  But 
we  have  an  idea  that  poverty  and  ignorance  in  this  and  other  coun- 
tries is  largely  due  to  the  fact  that  the  laborer's  wages  are  '  kept  from 
him  over  night,'  and  sometimes  over  six  nights,  sometimes  over 
fourteen,  sometimes  over  thirty.  But  in  the  '  Word  of  God,'  which 
Protestants  and  Catholics  both  pretend  to  teach,  we  are  told  not  to 
keep  them  over  one  night.  Yet  have  we  never  been  in  a  church, 
Protestant  or  Catholic,  where  the  credit  system  or  the  laws  of  inter- 
est were  considered. 

"  As  to  why  Italy,  Ireland,  Spain,  and  Spanish  America  are  poor 
and  in  ignorance,  we  cannot  positively  state.  But  we  have  a  notion 
that  when  the  Protestant  Britisher  traded  their  insides  out  of  them 
freely,  they  had  something  to  do  with  it.     That  country  from  which 


267 

we  hear  the  fewest  complaints  as  to  poverty  and  ignorance,  where 
wealth  is  most  evenly  divided,  and  where  contentment  most  pre- 
vails, whose  influence,  and  the  influence  and  teachings  of  whose 
citizens  did,  and  has  done  most  to  make  us  what  we  are,  that  coun- 
try, we  believe,  is  not  accused  by  Protestants  of  being  very  Roman 
Catholic.  Neither,  we  beheve,  is  she  accused  by  Romanists  of  being 
very  Protestant." 

FATHER    TIGHe's   ANSWER. 

Father  Tighe  handled  his  opponent  in  this  fashion  : 
"  Preferably  to  concluding  my  article  on  education  this  week,  I 
claim  the  indulgence  of  some  comments  on  the  fallacies  of  a  writer 
who  commenced  his  criticism  without  waiting  to  take  my  statement 
in  its  entirety.  That  seems  very  ungracious.  It  is  not  more  conso- 
nant with  the  exigencies  of  politeness  than  with  the  demands  of  dia- 
lectics, to  hear  a  man  out  before  making  a  demurrer  to  his  affirma- 
tions. My  friend  is  deficient  in  this  knowledge.  Nor  is  this  all. 
His  composition  is  wanting  in  repose  and  dignity.  His  arguments 
are  inept  and  iiTelevant.  His  grammar  stumbles,  and  his  logic  sad- 
ly limps.  In  fine,  he  lacks  Ihe  tone,  the  temper,  and  the  talent  to 
conduct  a  controversy. 

"  I  did  not  '  essay  '  to  do  anything.  I  did  it.  More  properly,  I 
let  distinguished  Protestants  make  the  showing  for  me.  Dr.  Mc- 
Cosh,  Dr.  Hodge,  and  Dr.  Savage  are,  to  say  the  least,  a  middling 
counterpoise  to  an  obscure,  rural  minister.  Let  him  level  his  strict- 
ures, not  at  me,  but  them.  Had  I  thrown  down  the  gauge  of  con- 
troversy, some  champion  of  intolerance  might  have  a  pretext  to  call 
me  to  account;  but  as  I  did  not,  my  critic's  ill-judged  interference 
was  not  less  impertinent  than  gratuitous  and  offensive.  And 
offensive  he  meant  to  be.  The  horn  of  the  bigot  and  the  fang  of 
the  fanatic,  stick  between  and  through  his  lines.  My  purpose  was 
not  polemical,  but  irenical;  not  aggressive,  but  explanatory;  not  con- 
troversial, but  conciliatory.  He  fumes  like  a  furnace;  bellows  like  a 
bull;  roars  like  a  lion.  The  name  Roman  Catholic  makes  him  bristle 
like  a  boar  at  the  sound  of  a  gun.  But  the  day  of  intolerance  is 
dead,  and  the  man  who  undertakes  to  wield  that  weapon  in  free 
America,  makes  a  sinner  of  his  judgment,  and  a  cipher  of  his  char- 
acter for  common  sense. 


268 

"My  critic's  arguments  I  blow  aside  like  eider-down,  and  so 
puerile  are  they,  that  I  notice  them  only  to  caution  the  unwary. 

"  Let  me  say  at  the  outset,  my  critic  did  not  even  touch  the  point 
of  my  discussion.  I  raised  two  questions  :  Was  the  Catholic  right 
in  his  contention  that  religion  and  education  were  inseparable  ?  Was 
the  conscience  of  the  Catholic  entitled  to  respect  ?  Behold  the  an- 
swer :  Certain  countries  abound  in  affluence,  and  they  are  Protest- 
ant; certain  others  groan  under  the  burden  of  poverty,  and  they  are 
Catholic.  Therefore — what  ?  *  He  that  slays  fat  oxen  should  him- 
self be  fat,'  as  Dr.  Johnson  says.  If  the  premises  were  true,  the 
legitimate  conclusion  would  be  that  in  some  countries  Protestants 
are  fairly  '  fixed '  as  to  life's  creature  comforts,  and  in  others  Cath- 
olics go  supperless  to  bed.  A  golden  opportunity  for  their  more 
wealthy  neighbors  to  lay  up  crowns  '  where  no  rust  doth  consume,* 
by  the  exercise  of  the  divine  virtue  of  charity.  But  I  believe  that 
He,  *  who  had  not  on  earth  whereon  to  lay  His  head,'  has  said,  *  The 
poor  ye  shall  always  have  with  you.'  I  think  He  said  by  the  mouth 
of  the  Evangelist,  *  Go,  ye  rich,  and  howl  in  your  miseries  which  are 
coming  upon  you.'  I  do  not  condemn  riches,  rightly  used.  But  I 
am  making  it  plain  that  money  is  no  test  of  orthodoxy.  Ducats  are 
not  doctrines.  The  road  to  heaven  is  steep,  and  it  is  starry  too,  but 
it  is  not  paved  with  dollars.  Dives  went  to  Sheol  and  Lazarus  was 
lifted  into  Abraham's  bosom.  Christ  was  the  founder  of  the  true 
religion,  and  He  plied  a  plane  to  win  His  bread.  He  was  a  king. 
Was  His  throne  of  sapphires  ?  Were  His  ministers  minions  of 
wealth  ?  He  was  naked  and  hungry,  bleeding  and  pierced,  contemn- 
ed in  life  and  adored  in  death.  He  died  as  a  felon.  Do  we  come 
the  nearer  to  Christ,  the  more  we  live  like  LucuUus  ? 

"  *  But  Catholic  countries  are  illiterate,'  says  the  critic.  You  say 
so;  but  granted  for  the  sake  of  argument,  what  inference  do  you 
draw?  No  student  of  history  is  ignorant  of  the  fact  that  the  most 
highly  civilized  nations  have  often  been  the  most  corrupt.  The  pas- 
sion for  knowledge  is  no  proof  of  the  possession  of  virtue.  Integrity 
of  mind  may  conduce  to  integrity  of  life,  but  does  not  constitute  it. 
Knowledge  is  only  an  edged  tool  in  the  hands  of  the  swindler,  the 
peculator,  and  the  forger.  Education  prevents  crime  when  it  is  true 
education.  A  people  may  be  very  ignorant,  and  yet  be  very  religious. 
The  science  of  faith  is  a  science  of  simplicity,  and  it  is  as  much  the 


269 

property  of  the  peasant,  as  it  is  the  possession  of  the  philosopher. 
Learning  is  not  a  proof  of  the  true  religion,  nor  is  ignorance  an 
argument  for  the  false. 

"  '  But  Catholic  countries  are  not  civilized/  You  say  so.  What 
is  civilization?  It  is  not  merely  bonds  of  steel  and  rails  of  iron,  and 
telephones,  and  telegraphs,  and  '  id  omne  genus.'  It  is  the  harmo- 
nious and  orderly  development  of  all  the  faculties  of  man.  It  is  ma- 
terial, it  is  moral,  it  is  intellectual,  it  is  religious.  Material  prosper- 
ity is  not,  therefore,  civilization,  any  more  than  a  part  is  the  whole, 
and  the  least  part  at  that.  There  is  a  lamentable  confusion  of  ideas 
in  your  mind,  Mr.  Critic.  It  is  one  of  the  most  pitiful  phenomena 
in  the  world  of  letters,  to  see  an  idle  declaim er  playing  at  logic. 

"  Now  for  your  alleged  facts.  *  Facts  are  stubborn  debaters,'  when 
they  are  facts;  but  when  not,  they  are  clumsy  defamers. 

"  1st.  Rome  held  sway  '  nineteen  and  three-quarter  centuries.* 
Indeed  ?  you  travel  outside  the  record  just  a  moiety  of  a  century. 
But  that's  a  peppercorn  to  a  man  who  wants  to  torture  truth.  You 
reject,  I  suppose,  the  Gregorian  Calendar,  because  it  was  devised  by 
a  Catholic  Pope.  The  present  year,  then,  is  1992.  That  leaves  me 
139  years  old,  and  if  you  contrast  the  Gregorian  reckoning  with 
your  own,  I  make  no  doubt  at  all  you  will  find  you  were  born  before 
your  grandfather.  Cut  off,  I  pray  you,  another  bagatelle  of  three 
centuries  before  the  Church  emerged  from  the  gloom  of  the  Cata- 
combs to  gaze  on  the  splendor  of  the  Cross  of  Constantine. 

"  2d.  But  '  seventeen  of  the  twenty-five  millions  in  Italy  cannot 
read  or  write.'  Italy's  population  was  30,947,306  on  January  1, 1890, 
and  49  per  cent,  of  males,  and  63  per  cent,  of  females,  can  both  read 
and  write.     You  are  muddled  in  your  mathematics. 

"3d.  '  Where  the  Pope  sits  in  state.'  Nay;  since  the  occupation 
of  Victor  Emmanuel,  in  1870,  the  Pope  held  no  temporal  sway. 
The  Popes  were  always  lovers  of  learning,  patrons  of  art,  promoters 
of  literature.  Did  you  ever  hear  of  the  golden  age  of  Leo  X.  ?  Did 
you  ever  read  Roscoe,  or  Hallam,  or  Macaulay,  or  Maitland,  or  Butt, 
all  Protestant  historians  and  critics  ? 

"  Johnson  says  the  true  criterion  of  civilization  is  found  in  the 
provision  made  for  the  poor.  Were  not  the  first  hospitals,  asylums, 
hospices,  and  free  schools  established  in  Italy  under  Papal  super- 
vision?   Ruskin  deems  art  the  salient  characteristic  of  civilization. 


270 

Well,  whither  do  American  painters,  sculptors,  architects,  bend  their 
steps  when  they  want  to  study  those  masterly  models  of  artistic 
skill,  which  are  among  the  finest  creations  of  the  human  mind  ?  I 
have  heard  they  went  to  Italy  and  Spain,  countries  so  much  the  ob- 
ject of  your  ill-concealed  contempt.  Strange  that  Catholics  should 
be  reproached  when  they  possess  culture  and  refinement,  and  con- 
demned when  they  happen  to  be  without  them. 

"  I  wonder  if  you  heard  of  the  land  where  *  a  Baphael  painted  and 
a  Veda  sung '  ?  The  land  of  Correggio,  Angelo,  da  Vinci,  Ariosto, 
Tasso,  Dante,  and  a  host  of  poets,  painters,  statesmen,  and  orators. 

"  4th.  You  wonder  '  why  Mexico  and  some  parts  of  South  America 
are  in  such  a  deplorable  condition.'  I  don't.  It  certainly  is  not 
chargeable  to  Catholicity,  but  rather  to  the  defect  of  it.  When  a  man 
forsakes  the  Catholic  religion,  and  gives  his  adhesion  to  atheistical 
conventicles,  I  am  never  amazed  at  any  degree  of  depravity  he  may 
exhibit  in  his  hfe  and  conduct.  There  are  good  Protestants,  but 
there  are  no  good  recreant  Catholics.  I  am  not  aware,  though,  that 
their  condition  is  so  very  deplorable.  Some  very  wealthy  individuals 
are  found  in  all  these  countries.  Patricio  Milmo,  an  Irishman 
'  Mexicanized/  is  worth  thirty  millions.  Eugene  Kelly  and  ex-Mayor 
Grace,  of  New  York,  draw  millions  annually  from  these  countries. 
But  what  has  material  prosperity  got  to  do  with  the  truth  of  reHgion, 
anyway  ?     That  is  your  supreme  sophism. 

"'The  Romish  Propaganda.' — You  employ  an  insulting  term,  and 
you  do  it  designedly.  No  educated  Protestant  speaks  of  the 
*  Romish,'  but  the  Roman  Propaganda. 

"  5th.  '  How  comes  it  that  where  Rome's  sway  is  most  complete, 
we  have  the  most  abject  civilization  on  the  face  of  the  globe  ? '  You 
state  what  is  calumniously  false.  France  is  the  *  eldest  daughter  of 
the  Church,'  and  she  gives  fashions  to  the  world  and  language  to 
the  courts  of  Europe.  Belgium  is  Catholic  to  the  core,  and  her 
people  are  the  most  industrious  and  prosperous  in  Europe.  Austria 
is  absolutely  Catholic,  and  will  you  dare  compare  her  with  Tartary, 
or  Thibet,  or  those  countries  on  the  Congo,  or  the  Nile,  which  Speke, 
Burton,  Livingstone,  and  Stanley  have  found  ? 

"  Let  me  be  a  questioner  a  little.  How  comes  it  that  Bavaria,  a 
Catholic  country,  has  a  larger  percentage  of  those  able  to  read  and 
write,  than  any  country  in  the  world,  not  excepting  Uncle  Sam's 


271 

dominions  ?  How  comes  it  that  Saxony,  Prussia,  Denmark,  and  the 
Netherlands,  which  are  Protestant,  are  the  most  corrupt  in  Europe  ? 
How  comes  it  that  the  condition  of  the  industrial  classes  in  the  mer- 
cantile centres  of  England,  is  about  as  low  as  low  can  be,  in  a  civil- 
ized country  ?  Why  did  the  miner  in  Cornwall,  when  asked  if  he 
did  not  know  God,  reply  that  he  did  not  work  in  his  mine  ?  Why 
are   there   100,000    children   in  New  Jersey  not  attending  school, 

though  of  school  age  ?     Why ,  but  I  will  stop,  because  that  is 

my  critic's  style  of  argument,  and  it  is  as  baseless  as  the  '  fabric  of 
a  vision/  It  is  the  capsheaf  of  folly  to  say  these  things  are  so,  be- 
cause Protestantism  reigns  in  one  place,  or  Catholicity  rules  in  an- 
other. Did  you  ever  hear  of  a  *  non  causa  pro  causa,'  or  '  post  hoc 
ergo  propter  hoc '  argument  ?    That  is  your  fallacy.    Here  it  is  : 

"  England  is  prosperous,  but  England  is  Protestant.  Therefore, 
Protestantism  is  divine.  Or,  Spain  is  poor  ;  but  Spain  is  Catholic. 
Therefore,  the  Pope  is  Antichrist.  Shades  of  Aristotle,  save  us ! 
Let  me  give  you  an  *  argumentum  ad  absurdum.' 

"  The  blind  bard  of  Smyrna  chanted  in  undying  song  the  glories  of 
the  Greeks,  and  until  the  annals  of  the  ages  shall  have  become  a 
shrivelled  scroll,  the  recollection  of  Koman  grandeur  will  live  in  the 
memory  of  man.  Greece  and  Rome  attained  a  standard  of  excel- 
lence in  civilization  to  this  day  unsurpassed,  and  these  countries 
were  Pagan.     Is  Paganism  divine  ?     Your  logic  says  yes. 

"6th.  *If  she  advocates  anjijhing  superior  here.'  Stay,  friend, 
the  Catholic  Church  advocates  the  same  thing  all  over  the  world, — 
the  indefeasible  right  of  every  child  that  comes  into  the"  world,  to  an 
education,  and  for  a  Christian  child  a  Christian  education.  *  Pressure  ' 
has  nothing  to  do  with  it.  By  the  inherent  force  of  her  own  divine 
constitution  she  must  act  thus,  and  not  otherwise. 

"  7th.  *  Text-books  have  been  printed  by  Catholics  in  New  Eng- 
land, outraging  history,  and  were  foisted  upon  the  rising  generation.* 
For  shame,  friend !  You  must  know  it  was  the  Catholics  of  New 
England  who  complained  of  the  text-books  *  foisted'  upon  them. 
This  is  a  strange  inversion,  or  perversion,  of  facts. 

"  8th.  '  When  Romanists ' — another  offensive  epithet — '  have  con- 
vinced us,'  etc.  Did  I  say  a  harsh  word  about  Protestants  ?  Did  I 
attack  the  pubHc  school  system  ?  Did  I  assail  the  honor  and  integ- 
rity of  our  common  manhood  ?     Heaven  forfend !     The  vilest  crimi- 


272 

nal  that  stands  in  the  prisoner's  dock  is  entitled  to  the  presumption 
of  innocence  until  he  is  proven  guilty.  But  in  your  baleful  eye  a 
Catholic  is  lower  than  such  criminal.  The  Catholic  is  guilty  till  he 
proves  to  you  his  innocence.  He  is  not  the  friend  of  truth  ;  hence 
he  is  a  liar.  He  is  not  the  friend  of  liberty  ;  hence  he  is  a  tyrant, 
or  disturber  of  social  order.  He  is  not  the  friend  of  education  ; 
hence  he  is  the  advocate  of  ignorance. 

"  Who  are  you,  that  the  Catholic  need  apologize  to  you  for  his 
existence  in  this  Republic  ?  The  CathoHc  lives  under  the  protection 
of  the  starry  flag,  and  will  you  exclude  him  from  the  rights  of  citi- 
zenship ?  Are  you  the  keeper  of  his  conscience  ?  Dare  you  brand 
him  as  a  traitor,  by  calling  him  the  enemy  of  liberty  ?  We  are  here  ; 
we  need  no  apology  for  our  presence.  We  came  here  ;  we  came 
first,  and  by  the  blessing  of  God,  we  came  to  stay.  Catholics  dis- 
covered the  country.  Catholics  have  helped  to  people  and  develop 
it;  Catholics  have  thrice  shed  their  blood  in  defence  of  it.  The 
rain-swept  bivouacs,  the  blood-stained  quarter-decks,  the  gory  battle- 
fields, all  the  way  from  Lexington  and  Yorktown,  to  Shiloh,  Gettys- 
burg, and  Malvern  Hill,  the  clash  and  clangor  of  the  Old  Continent- 
als, and  the  wild  war-cry  of  the  boys  in  blue,  aye,  and  the  tender 
touch  of  the  delicate,  white  hand  of  the  Catholic  Sister  of  Charity, 
stanching  the  life-blood  as  it  gushed  from  many  a  hero's  heart, 
• — are  all  there,  to  tell  the  American  people,  to  the  latest  posterity, 
of  the  undying  devotion  of  the  sons  and  daughters  of  the  Catholic 
Church  to  the  work  of  the  perpetuity  of  the  Union  and  the  cause 
of  constitutional  liberty  in  this  land. 

"  I  have  heard  that  the  man  who  has  so  grievously  aspersed  the 
Catholic  name,  has  taken  his  departure  from  this  city.  With  un- 
affected cordiality,  I  congratulate  my  neighbors.  Bigotry  is  a  blight 
on  any  place,  and  a  curse  to  any  community.  Hence !  thou  who 
comest '  with  the  testament  of  bleeding  war '  within  thy  hand !  " 


xn. 

FKIENDSHIP. 

A  CORRESPONDENT  puts  to  US  the  questioii,  whether  we  do  not  think 
"the  story  of  Jonathan  and  David  of  equal  beauty  and  pathos  with 
that  of  Joseph  and  his  brethren. 

We  do  think  that  the  former  story  is  of  equal  and  even  of  greater 
beauty,  in  its  kind,  than  that  of  Joseph.  And  yet  it  is  hard  to  com- 
pare, with  much  success,  objects  of  an  entirely  different  species. 
One  rose  we  compare  to  another  rose,  or  even  with  any  other  flower, 
as,  for  example,  with  the  French  marigold,  or  the  mignonette,  for 
where  there  is  no  resemblance  as  to  shape,  form,  or  color,  there  may 
1)6  as  to  odor,  and,  at  all  events,  all  the  objects  fall  within  the  same 
species.  But  we  could  not,  with  anything  like  propriety,  compare  a 
rose  to  a  tree,  a  mountain,  or  to  a  goldbug. 

What  obtains  in  the  physical  world,  is  true  also  of  the  moral 
order.  The  beauty  of  the  two  subjects  in  question  is  of  a  moral 
character,  but  at  the  same  time  of  a  totally  different  genus;  for, 
whereas  there  can  be  traced  certain  points  of  resemblance,  there  still 
remains  an  essential  difference  which  does  not  allow  of  that  pro- 
pinquity, so  to  speak,  which  is  necessary  for  a  complete  comparison, 
since  all  must  allow  that  friendship  and  fiUal  piety  are  virtues  mani- 
festly distinct  in  kind. 

Taking  them  as  merely  human  virtues,  they  rest,  in  the  first  place, 
upon  different  foundations;  the  one  on  connection  by  kin;  the  other 
on  connection  by  esteem,  interest,  and  the  various  other  titles  of 
friendship.  Filial  duty  is  of  obligation;  friendship  is  of  free  choice. 
Filial  love  is  natural  to  man;  friendship  is  not,  in  any  strict  sense,  or 
there  would  not  be  so  many  misanthropes  in  the  world.  We  can 
conceive  a  man  to  be  without  friends;  we  can  hardly  think  of  one 
who  is  a  parent-hater,  or,  if  such  a  one  exists,  he  is  a  monstrosity. 
18 


274 

Still,  the  two  virtues,  friendship  and  filial  piety,  have  a  certain 
agreement,  inasmuch  as  they  denote  the  affections  of  the  heart  for 
objects  outside  itself.  In  the  one  case,  these  objects  are  related  to 
the  heart  by  a  sort  of  natural  affinity  begotten  by  blood;  in  the 
other  there  is  no  special  predilection  of  the  affections  until  reason 
has  selected  and  approved  the  object  upon  which  those  affections 
are  to  be  centred.  And,  therefore,  it  would  appear  that  friendship 
is  the  more  rational;  filial  affection,  the  more  instinctive.  Thence, 
it  seems,  that  if  we  regard  the  virtues  intellectually,  friendship  is 
more  noble  than  filial  affection,  just  as  reason  reigns  superior  to  in- 
stinct. And  yet,  we  behold,  with  less  horror,  the  violation  and  be- 
trayal of  friendship  than  recreancy  to  filial  duty.  The  one  may  be  a 
sin  against  gratitude,  trust,  benevolence,  and  the  like;  but  the  other 
is  a  sin  against  nature. 

But  it  may  be  said,  if  friendship  be  the  nobler  virtue,  how  is  its 
violation  less  grievous  than  that  of  filial  piety  ?  I  answer,  that  one 
of  the  defects  of  comparison  in  the  case  of  dissimilar  things,  is  that 
they  cannot  be  compared  so  as  to  predicate  attributes  of  them, 
sufficiently  common  and  comprehensive  to  require  no  modification. 
If  we  affirm  a  quality  as  appertaining,  in  a  superior  degree,  to  an 
object  under  a  certain  consideration,  it  may  be  wholly  wanting 
under  another  aspect;  or  it  may  be  over-balanced  by  other  qualities 
not  the  subject  of  immediate  inquiry.  And  thus,  if  we  take  these 
two  virtues  of  which  we  are  speaking,  in  a  full  and  adequate  view, 
or  in  their  totality,  we  should  hesitate  to  say  that  friendship,  al- 
though indeed  a  noble  virtue,  is  nobler  than  one  directly  implanted 
by  God  in  the  human  breast;  for  though  instinctive,  it  is  also 
rational,  especially  so  soon  as  the  child  has  attained  the  expedite 
use  of  reason. 

To  conclude  this  portion  of  the  subject,  I  may  say  that  I  think  the 
two  stories,  that  of  Joseph  and  his  brethren,  and  that  of  Jonathan  and 
David,  equally  beautiful  in  many  respects;  and  if  we  take  them  in 
their  different  classes  or  species,  I  would  not  hesitate  to  say  that  the 
latter  is  the  more  beautiful,  for  it  is  undoubtedly  one  of  the  most 
perfect  instances  of  human  friendship  that  has  been  given  to 
record. 

Let  us  recall  the  story  in  the  chaste  language  of  Sacred  Writ: 

"  And  it  came  to  pass  when  he  had  made  an  end  of  speaking  to 


275 

Saul,  the  soul  of  Jonathan  was  knit  with  the  soul  of  David,  and 
Jonathan  loved  him  as  his  own  soul. 

"  And  David  and  Jonathan  made  a  covenant,  for  he  loved  him  as 
his  own  soul. 

"  And  Jonathan  stripped  off  the  coat  with  which  he  was  clothed, 
and  gave  it  to  David,  and  the  rest  of  his  garments,  even  to  his 
sword,  and  to  his  bow,  and  to  his  girdle." 

And  then  what  tender  solicitude,  and  what  self-denying  devotion 
on  the  part  of  Jonathan  to  shield  his  friend  from  the  shafts  of  Saul's 
furj'.  How  touching  the  meeting  of  the  two,  when  David  issued 
from  his  covert  in  the  field,  in  response  to  the  signal  of  the  arrows 
which  Jonathan  had  hurled  from  his  bow. 

"  And  when  the  boy  was  gone,  David  rose  out  of  his  place,  which 
was  now  towards  the  south,  and  faUing  on  his  face  on  the  ground, 
he  adored  thrice;  and  kissing  one  another,  they  wept  together,  but 
David  more. 

"And  Jonathan  swore  again  to  David  because  he  loved  him;  for 
he  loved  him  as  his  own  soul." 

On  the  subject  of  friendship,  so  many  beautiful  things  have  been 
said  by  so  many  clever  writers,  that  I  can  hardly  hope  to  shun  the 
hackneyed  road  of  commonplace  suggestion  and  remark.  Despite 
this,  however,  I  shall  attempt  to  be  creative,  but  I  shall  strive  also  to 
pluck  a  few  flowers  that  bloom  on  unfrequented  fields. 

A  friend,  then,  is  one  after  one's  own  heart;  nay,  is  of  one  heaii; 
and  mind  with  myself;  not  that  he  must  think  and  feel  as  I  do;  or 
that  his  views  of  life  and  manners,  men,  and  things  must  chime  ac- 
cordantly with  mine,  as  if  they  proceeded  from  one  common  source 
and  principle.  Nor  yet  that  he  may  not  be  at  variance  with  me  in 
our  interchange  of  ideas,  and  may  not  at  times  positively  disagree 
with  my  own  most  cherished  thoughts  and  honored  ideals;  for  true 
friendship  not  infrequently  demands  this  very  opposition.  But  ad- 
mitting the  most  extensive  latitude  for  intellectual  dissent,  and  for 
divergence  of  natual  endowments  and  moral  qualities,  so  much  so, 
that  my  friend  and  I  are,  in  these  respects,  the  very  antipodes  of 
our  mutual  selves;  yet  there  still  remains  that  magnetic  and  almost 
indefinable  tahsmanic  touch  of  sympathy,  of  unison,  of  harmony,  of 
sentiment  and  feeling,  blending,  uniting,  even  fusing  together  what 
was  before  disjoined  and  separated.     I  do  not  say  that  this  loadstone 


276 

of  attraction  is  altogether  indefinable,  for  that  would  make  friendship 
unreasoning  and  unreasonable;  friendship  is  founded  on  reason. 
That  would  make  friendship  nothing  more  than  milk-and-water  senti- 
ment; and  friendship,  though  it  must  be  seasoned  and  sweetened 
with  the  salt  of  sentiment,  is  yet  more  than  the  finest  feeling,  for  it 
dwells  in  the  mind,  no  less  than  in  the  heai-t.  What  I  have  labored, 
perhaps  somewhat  clumsily,  to  make  manifest,  is,  that  reason  is  the 
prime  factor  in  the  formation  of  friendship,  but  not  to  the  exclusion 
of  other  elements. 

This  reflection  gives  us  the  clue  to  the  next  point  of  discussion, 
that  is  to  say,  to  the  titles  of  friendship,  or  the  qualities  upon  which 
it  is  founded. 

On  this  subject,  master  minds  having  almost  exhausted  them- 
selves, little  remains  for  a  common  scribe  to  dilate  upon.  But  as 
"  fools  msh  in  where  mortals  fear  to  tread,"  I  may  be  pardoned 
for  venturing  my  sorry  wherry  upon  a  sea,  profound,  vast,  and 
abysmal. 

The  first  quality,  then,  which  we  discover  as  characteristic  of 
friendship,  is  mutuality,  or  reciprocity.  There  are  many  instances,  I 
know,  of  actions  denominated  friendly,  from  which  this  attribute 
seems  to  be  excluded.  But  in  this  case,  friendship's  language  is 
misapplied,  and  the  term  is  a  misnomer.  I  may  make  a  man  my 
beneficiary  without  making  him  my  friend;  so  far  from  attaining 
such  result,  the  benefactions  I  bestow  upon  him  may  convert  him 
into  an  enemy.  Hence  some  cynical  philosopher  and  bilious  sage 
has  observed  that,  if  you  want  to  make  a  man  hostile  to  your-  inter- 
ests, do  him  a  favor.  Of  the  extent  of  truth  in  this  assertion,  I  need 
not  speak  to  a  person  of  sagacity.  And  thank  heaven  for  the  integ- 
rity of  human  nature,  that  still  abides  with  us,  this  is  not  the  normal 
condition  of  the  heart;  we  may  benefit  some  people  without  count- 
ing them  as  enemies.  All  I  contend  for  is,  that  personal  favors, 
benefits,  and  the  like,  are  not  a  necessary  part  of  friendship,  at 
least  in  the  formative  stage  of  its  existence. 

These  may,  and  generally  do,  exhibit  themselves  at  some  point,  as 
tokens  or  symbols  of  affection,  but  they  are  not  the  virtue  itself, 
any  more  than  the  sign  is  the  thing  signified. 

One  more  remark,  before  I  point  out  the  quahties  which  reason 
requires  in  true  friendship.     I  must  eliminate,  root  and  branch,  the 


277 

element  of  selfishness  from  friendship.     And  this  in  opposition  to 
the  dogmatic  dicta  of  many  moralists  and  critics. 
Who  does  not  remember  Moore's  lines  ? 

'*  What  is  friendship,  but  a  name, 
A  charm  that  lulls  to  sleep  ; 
A  shade  that  follows  wealth  or  fame. 
But  leaves  the  wretch  to  weep." 

And  Bacon's  pessimistic  assertion  ?  "  That  there  is  very  little  friend- 
ship in  the  world,  and  least  of  all  among  equals."  Some  other  blue- 
devil  misanthrope  averred,  that  all  friendship  was  founded  on  selfish- 
ness, and  that  every  man  who  sought  to  ingratiate  himself  into  your 
favor  had,  in  the  language  of  Ben.  Franklin,  "  some  axe  to  grind." 

I  think  it  is  Montaigne  who  said,  that  hypocrisy  was  the  homage 
which  vice  paid  to  virtue.  And  as  there  is  such  a  thing  as  true 
friendship,  so  there  will  always  be  found  a  spurious  article  to  claim 
recognition  as  the  genuine;  for,  "  as  to  the  value  of  other  things,  " 
says  Cicero,  "  most  men  differ;  concerning  friendship,  all  have  the 
same  opinion." 

Thus  much  affirmed  to  clear  the  way,  we  may  now  examine,  with 
the  light  of  reason,  those  fair  features  which  constitute  the  charm  of 
the  beautiful  virtue  of  friendship.  It  is  the  office  of  reason  to  do 
this,  for  it  requires  the  power  of  intellectual  penetration  to  detect 
the  qualities  in  question;  a  nice  discriminating  judgment  and  exact 
analysis  and  comparison  of  ideas  to  determine  their  value ;  and  last- 
ly, the  selection  of  the  character  in  whom  the  qualities  reside  as  the 
term  and  object  of  our  friendship. 

The  one  indispensable  quality  of  friendship  is  esteem,  regard,  and 
mutual  appreciation.  Without  it,  no  lasting  friendship  can  subsist. 
Now,  I  esteem  a  man  for  what  he  is  worth;  for  his  qualities  of  head 
and  heart,  manner  and  bearing  being  only  secondary  considerations 
in  the  commonality  of  cases.  As  no  two  minds,  like  no  two  faces, 
are  fac-similes,  man  will  differ  as  to  the  objects  of  their  appre- 
ciation. 

One  man  admires  talent,  genius,  lively  disposition,  sallies  of  wit, 
exuberant  fancy;  another  seeks  only  for  a  kind,  sympathetic  nature, 
to  pour  balm  into  his  soul.  But  these  are  only  partial  judgments, 
and  he  who,  by  some  contracted  notion,  seeks  to  gauge  the  merits 


278 

of  bis  frienS  from  so  selfish  and  narrow  a  standpoint,  is  ordinarily 
doomed  to  disappointment. 

It  is  on  tlie  whole  man  our  critical  eye  should  rest;  preserving  the 
right  proportion  between  his  different  classes  of  qualities,  due  prom- 
inence being  given  to  the  moral  ones,  which  must  outshine  the  rest. 

When  I  have  learned  to  justly  esteem  a  person,  then  I  am  in  a 
position  to  become  his  friend,  and  not  before.  If  he  has  many  good 
qualities,  these  will  not  all  show  themselves  at  once,  or  upon  a  super- 
ficial acquaintance,  but  will  require  some  time  and  observation  to 
elicit  them;  so  that  knowledge  will  serve  to  increase  and  strengthen 
the  links  of  unison  between  the  friends. 

This,  of  course,  is  not  always  the  case,  for  friends,  like  lovers,  are 
artful  enough  to  turn  out  their  angel  side  at  the  outset;  to  make,  so 
to  speak,  their  best  bow,  and  thus  pass  for  what  they  are  not,  and, 
perhaps,  never  can  be.  Disgust  and  contempt  are  born  of  discovery, 
for,  as  has  been  said,  pretensions  deceive  but  only  the  pretenders. 
Addison  deftly  touches  this  trait  of  concealment  in  his  essay  on 
Friendship  :  "  A  man  often  contracts  a  friendship  with  one  whom, 
perhaps,  he  does  not  find  out  till  after  a  year's  conversation;  when 
on  a  sudden  some  latent  ill-humour  breaks  out  upon  him,  he  never 
discovered  or  suspected  upon  his  first  entering  into  an  intimacy  with 
him."  There  are  some  persons,  who,  in  certain  periods  of  their 
lives,  are  inexpressibly  agreeable,  and  in  others,  as  odious  and  de- 
testable. Martial  has  given  a  very  pretty  picture  of  one  of  this 
species  in  the  following  epigram  : 

"  In  all  thy  humors,  whether  giave  or  mellow, 
Thou'rt  such  a  touchy,  testy,  pleasant  fellow  ; 
Hast  so  much  wit  and  mirth  and  spleen  about  thee, 
There  is  no  living  with  thee  or  without  thee." 

With  true  friends  there  is  no  such  dissembling.  Frankness,  open- 
ness, and  artless  and  unaffected  simplicity  and  confidence  and  trust 
are  not  only  salient,  but  striking  and  essential  characteristics  of  that 
condition  of  relationship  between  individulals  which  must  precede 
the  formation  and  continue  through  the  duration  of  true  friendship. 
How  can  I  be  the  friend  of  a  man  who  seems  to  hide  himself  from 
me;  who  is  on  his  guard  all  the  time  lest  he  should  betray  himself 
to  me  by  act  or  speech;  who  appears  to  think  me  ever  on  the  alert 


279 

to  hold  up  the  lantern  to  his  defects,  and  set  his  faults  upon  the 
candlestick  ? 

So  soon,  however,  as  we  find  one,  in  whom,  by  reason  of  his  own 
artless  non-concealment  and  ingenuous  demeanor,  we  are  able  to  dis- 
cover those  traits  of  character  which  merit  our  esteem;  and  when 
circumstances  are  such  as  to  favor  and  facilitate  acquaintance;  and 
when,  besides,  there  is  that  nameless  attraction  which  draws  us  to- 
wards each  other,  then  we  naturally  desire  to  cultivate  the  friend- 
ship of  such  a  one.  It  is  obvious,  though,  that  among  Christian 
people  there  can  be  but  little  esteem  which  is  not  founded  upon 
moral  qualities.  What  boots  it  that  a  man  be  wise  or  witty;  that  he 
be  affable  and  accomplished;  that  he  be  brimful  of  good-nature,  and 
overflowing  with  the  "  milk  of  human  kindness,"  if,  at  the  same  time, 
he  be  wanting  in  that  very  thing,  which,  being  absent,  mars  his  man- 
hood and  unmakes  his  majesty  as  the  noblest  work  of  God  ? 

So  much  for  the  titles  upon  which  friendship  rests;  and  now  for 
those  attributes  which  adorn  and  beautify,  as  they  consecrate  and 
ennoble,  the  magnificent  virtue  of  true  friendship. 

Confidence  is  the  first  quality  to  which  I  direct  my  attention. 

It  has  been  said  there  are  no  secrets  between  friends.  With  this 
view  I  cannot  fully  concur;  for,  as  George  Macdonald  has  said,  "  in 
every  man  there  is  a  loneliness,  an  inner  chamber  of  peculiar  Kfe, 
into  which  God  alone  can  enter."  But  if  it  be  taken  in  the  proper 
sense,  it  is  not  only  a  truth,  but  a  truism,  to  say  that  there  should  be 
no  secrets  as  between  genuine  friends.  For  this  refers,  of  course, 
not  to  those  affairs  of  conscience  which  men  do  not  wish  to  commu- 
nicate to  any  but  God,  or  their  confessor,  but  to  such  matters  as 
may  be  disclosed  with  discretion  to  an  undoubted  and  approved 
friend,  to  the  end  that  he  assist,  enlighten,  counsel,  or  lend  sympathy 
and  comfort  when  these  are  needful.  And  few,  indeed,  are  the  af- 
fairs of  life,  the  concerns  of  individuals,  which  may  not  be  thus  di- 
vulged to  one  sufficiently  tried  to  merit  the  appellation  of  friend.  If 
I  cannot  so  far  confide  in  my  putative  friends  as  to  trust  them  with 
important  secrets  when  necessary,  why  should  I  select  ttem  for  an 
office  which  I  deem  them  disqualified  to  perform  ?  And  this  confi- 
dence exactly  accords  with  that  definition  of  a  friend,  which,  of  all  I 
know,  is  the  best: — that  he  is  my  second  self.  For  if  he  is  of  one 
heart  and  mind  with  me,  how  can  he  be  so  regarded  upon  whom,  in 


280 

my  mistrust,  I  shut  the  door  of  intimacy  with  reference  to  what 
passes  within  my  own  soul  ? 

This  confidence,  moreover,  is  the  necessary  outgrowth  of  that 
judgment  of  reason  by  which  I  select  one  man  of  a  thousand  per- 
haps, to  be  my  friend;  and  if  I  do  not  extend  it,  the  omission 
simply  proves  that  I  have  a  very  puny  faith  in  the  correctness  of  my 
own  judgment.  If  I  judge  a  man  to  have  the  necessary  learning, 
ability,  goodness,  affection,  and  all  the  other  qualities  which  I  seek 
in  a  friend;  and  if  I  have  chosen  him  to  be  such  just  because  of 
these  things,  do  I  not  make  a  sinner  of  my  judgment  and  a  cipher 
of  my  character  for  common  sense,  when  I  hesitate  to  make  avail- 
able those  endowments,  on  account  of  whose  possession  I  first  se- 
lected my  friend,  not  more  for  admiration  and  esteem  of  the  things 
themselves,  than  for  the  belief  that  they  might  advantage  me  in  cer- 
tain emergencies  ?  I  must,  therefore,  confide  in  my  friend,  and  if  I 
do  not,  he  may  be  an  acquaintance,  a  companion,  a  fellow;  but  he  is 
not  in  any  true  sense  a  friend.  A  friend  is  a  counsellor;  how  can 
he  counsel  me  who  has  not  my  confidence  ?  A  friend  is  a  sympa- 
thizer; how  can  he  sympathize  with  my  affliction,  or  soften  my  sor- 
row by  "  pouring  on  it  the  balm  of  kindred  sorrow,"  who  knows 
not  what  griefs  may  vex  my  soul?  I  confide,  then,  in  my  friend; 
I  trust  in  his  fidelity;  I  have  faith  in  his  integrity;  I  confidently 
count  on  his  sympathy,  and  I  believe  that  he  possesses  all  that 
abihty,  that  benevolence,  and  that  personal  interest,  that  desire 
to  help  me,  and  that  promptitude  to  do  so,  which  I  pronounced 
him  possessed  of  when  I  called  him  by  the  sacred  name  of 
friend. 

Albeit,  I  say:  be  slow  to  give  any  man  thy  complete  confidence 
till  time  has  tried  him.  If  it  be  no  irreverence  to  apply  here  the 
words  of  Sacred  Writ,  "Let  a  man  prove  himself."  To  know  any 
man,  you  must  eat  the  traditional  peck  of  salt  with  him;  you  must 
have  a  considerable  personal  experience  with  him.  But  it  is  not  al~ 
ways  necessary  that  it  be  personal,  for  his  reputation  is  to  be  re- 
garded, and*  the  authority  on  which  it  rests.  Nor  is  long  acquaint- 
ance always  necessary;  for  some  may  betray  more  of  their  character 
and  show  more  genuine  friendship  in  a  year  than  others  in  the 
course  of  a  lifetime.  Yet  the  rule  obtains:  Give  your  confidence 
cautiously;  or  better,  prudently,  and  prudence  does  not  signify  nar- 


281 

row-minded  caution.     To  quote  the  well-known  advice  of  Polonius 
to  his  son : 

"  The  friends  thou  hast  and  their  adoption  tried. 
Grapple  them  to  thy  heart  with  hooks  of  steel; 
But  do  not  dull  thy  palm  with  entertainment 
Of  every  new-hatched,  unfledged  comrade." 

Another  quality  I  shall  briefly  consider,  and  that  is  constancy. 

I  allude  not  now  to  those  summer  friends,  as  they  are  called,  who 
flit  about  a  man,  like  gnats  in  a  sunbeam,  so  long  as  the  sunshine  of 
success  smiles  upon  him,  and  basely  desert  a  friend  when  a  crisis 
comes  upon  him,  even  though  they  would  feelingly  resent  any  im- 
putation of  the  kind;  and  yet,  sooth  to  say,  are  made  of  such  fickle 
and  vacillating  stuff  that  they  can  form  no  fixed,  unvarying  friend- 
ships. They  are  with  you  to-day;  to-moiTow  they  are  vanished  like 
smoke.  Then  they  repent  themselves,  and  court  your  company  and 
your  friendship,  only  to  make  a  fresh  rupture,  and  thus  it  is  to  the 
end  of  the  chapter.  This  is  often  the  result  of  the  innate  weakness 
of  their  will  and  the  vagaries  of  their  intellect.  They  lack  that  solid 
poise  which  betokens  a  well-balanced  and  orderly  mind.  Or  it  is 
due  to  irascibility  and  impulsiveness  of  nature  and  disposition. 
They  are  ruffled  and  huffed  and  slighted  at  the  most  trivial  and 
often  imaginary  things;  and  without  an  iota  of  compunction  they 
will,  for  a  mere  bagatelle,  ruthlessly  snap  asunder  the  bonds  of 
friendship,  which,  having  endured  for  years,  gave  promise  of  long 
life  and  permanence.  These  are  often  the  best-natured  people  in 
the  world,  but  far  from  desirable  friends.  They  are  often  haughty, 
imperious,  overbearing,  and  exacting;  they  will  not  meet  you  on 
terms  of  equality;  and  when  they  do  bestow  the  outward  marks  of 
friendship,  it  is  with  a  condescending  and  patronizing  air,  which 
plainly  says,  "  You  ought  to  feel  honored,  sir."  And  then  they  like 
to  play  the  coquette,  to  show  you  that,  Hke  the  Siren,  they,  too, 
"  can  break  all  hearts  like  chinaware."  And  thus  they  ''  run  their 
fickle  round,"  till  at  length,  wearied  by  satiety,  they  find  that  they 
have  the  fate  of  the  coquette,  having  become  every  man's  acquaint- 
ance, but  the  friend  of  none. 

Fidelity  is  another  mark  of  true  friendship. 

It  might  appear  that  this  is  little  different  from  constancy,  and, 


282 

perhaps,  I  could  embrace  it  under  tbat  head;  but  in  the  meaning  I 
here  attach  to  it,  it  is  something  widely  apart  from  the  other.  By 
fidelity  I  understand,  not  so  much  constancy  in  friendship,  as  faith- 
fulness in  fulfilling  its  trusts  and  obligations.  In  its  primary  mean- 
ing it,  of  course,  excludes  all  treachery,  all  betrayal,  all  falseness; 
and  this  ought  to  go  without  saying.  The  faithful  friend  is  one  who, 
in  all  circumstances,  come  calm,  come  storm,  will  never  flinch  in  dis- 
charging the  duty  of  a  friend.  The  time-honored  adage,  "  a  friend 
in  need  is  a  friend  indeed,"  finds  in  him  its  literal  exemplification. 
He  prefers  to  be  a  kindly  thorn  in  my  side,  than  to  be  my  echo ;  and 
he  is  not  "  a  mute  dog  afraid  to  bark  "  when  there  is  danger.  He 
sees  my  faults,  and  he  fain  would  correct  them,  unconscious  of  giv- 
ing offence.  He  thinks  not  with  Cassius,  "  a  friendly  eye  would 
never  see  such  faults,"  but  with  Brutus,  '*  a  flatterer's  would  not, 
though  they  were  as  high  as  huge  Olympus."  The  world  may  play 
me  false;  but  he  is  true  as  steel.  Ever  jealous  of  my  honor,  he  is  a 
shield  against  the  biting  breath  of  slander,  and  no  tongue  may  de- 
fame me  with  impunity  when  he  stands  by  to  bear  a  blow  in  my  de- 
fense. 

Though  all  things  should  seem  against  me;  thoagh  the  chill  wind 
of  misfortune  should  drive  me  forth  a  wanderer  and  an  outcast; 
though  shame,  disgrace,  and  infamy  come  upon  me,  while  he  de- 
plores and  weeps  my  fall,  he  is  my  friend  still.  When  the  proud 
man's  contumely  and  the  scorn  of  the  world  pursue  me,  he  compas- 
sionates my  misery,  and  he  follows  me  to  the  tomb  when  I  am  cast 
into  it  as  an  unclean  and  loathsome  thing. 

And  the  faithful  friend  is  the  soul  of  sincerity.  No  suspicions 
ever  haunt  his  mind;  no  jealousies  corrode  his  heart,  for  if  they  did 
he  would  not  be  found  faithful.  There  is  no  bond  which  jealousy 
will  not  break,  "  for  if  love  be  strong  as  death,  jealousy  is  hard  as 
hell."  The  worm  of  envy  never  enters  his  breast,  for  if  it  did  he 
would  betray  his  trust.  And  yet  he  wants  no  monopoly  of  my  af- 
fections, nor  does  the  green-eyed  monster  seize  him  if  I  seek  to 
make  other  friends,  knowing  that  this  is  no  infringement  of  his 
right,  no  detraction  of  his  own  esteem.  And  how  many  useful  and 
honorable  friendships  have  been  strangled  at  birth,  and  blasted,  as 
the  bud  by  the  frost,  by  the  killing  ice  of  envy,  jealousy,  suspicion, 
and  all  that  base-bom  brood. 


283 

I  might  say  more  about  the  vices  incident  to  friendship,  but,  per- 
haps, I  have  mounted  "  the  airy  stilts  of  abstraction  "  long  enough, 
and  this  analysis  is  now  sufficiently  minute.  A  word  more  in  an- 
other direction. 

It  is  a  great  advantage  to  any  man  to  possess  a  few  good  and  tried 
friends.  None  of  us  can  hve  solely  in  himself.  Thank  God,  no  man 
can  so  far  gratify  his  egotism.  Man  was  made  for  society;  and,  for 
my  part,  whenever  I  have  met  a  character  who  seemed  utterly  with- 
out bent  or  incUnation  for  companionship,  I  have  been  irresistibly 
persuaded  that  he  was  a  fellow  with  a  very  vicious  head,  a  selfish 
heart,  and  gross,  distempered  feelings.  He  is  a  good  man  to  be 
watched,  nay,  shunned — hahet  foenum  in  cornu,  as  the  poet  says: 
"  He  has  hay  on  his  horns." 

The  first  thing  that  God  found  fault  with  (if  I  may  be  licensed 
this  expression)  after  He  pronounced  His  creation  good,  was  the 
loneliness  of  man.  We  have  within  us  a  craving  for  sympathy  and 
association.  As  Cicero  says,  "  They  seem  to  take  away  the  sun  from 
the  world,  who  withdraw  friendship  from  life;  for  we  have  received 
nothing  better  from  the  immortal  gods,  and  nothing  more  delight- 
ful." Whoever  has  not  read  Cicero's  admirable  treatise  on  friend- 
ship, should  supply  the  neglect  at  his  first  convenience. 

Sir  John  Lubbock,  who  has  lately  had  a  deal  of  fame  anent  his 
list  of  one  hundred  books,  affirms  that  those  who  have  written  in 
praise  of  books,  can  find  nothing  better  to  say  of  them  than  to  com- 
pare them  to  friends.  And  Bacon  tells  us  that  it  is  a  mere  solitude 
to  want  true  friends,  without  which  the  world  is  a  wilderness.  "  In 
conversation  with  a  friend,  a  man  tosseth  his  thoughts  more  easily; 
he  marshalleth  them  more  orderly;  he  seeth  how  they  look  when 
they  are  turned  into  words;  and,  finally,  he  waxeth  wiser  than  him- 
self, and  that  more  by  an  hour's  discourse  than  by  a  day's  medita- 
tion." 

"  The  most  open  discourse  and  unreserved  instruction,"  says  Addi- 
son, "  is  that  which  passes  between  two  persons  who  are  familiar  and 
intimate  friends."  The  same  elegant  essayist,  quoting  from  Tully, 
says,  "  This  pagan  was  the  first  who  observed  that  friendship  im- 
proves happiness  and  abates  misery,  by  the  doubling  of  our  joy  and 
the  dividing  of  our  grief." 

These  advantages,  or  fruits  of  friendship,  as  they  are  called  by  Sir 


284 

Francis  Bacon,  are,  according  to  Addison,  easily  multiplied  by  call- 
ing into  play  all  those  characteristics  which  we  have  described  as 
proper  to  real  friendship 

A  man  should  be  chary  in  his  choice  of  friends.  "Have  many 
well-wishers,"  says  the  son  of  Sirach,  "but  very  few  friends." 
"  Discover  not  thy  heart  to  every  one,"  says  A  Kempis,  citing  EccL. 
viii.,  "  but  treat  thy  affairs  with  a  man  that  is  wise  and  feareth 
God."  And  again  :  "  We  must  have  charity  for  all,  but  familiarity 
is  not  expedient."  Besides,  if  we  have  too  many  friends,  we  cannot 
treat  all  with  that  consideration  which  we  should,  and  our  affections 
likewise  are  too  much  divided. 

Unsuspecting  and  confiding  natures  are  prone  to  give  their  friend- 
ship to  any  chance  acquaintance,  and  often  are  they  left  to  repent 
their  indiscretion  and  deplore  their  folly.  As  for  myself,  though 
owning  to  a  wide-extended  circle  of  acquaintance,  I  count  my  friends 
upon  the  fingers  of  my  hand.  And  I  am  not  sorry  that  the  case  is 
thus,  for  I  feel,  with  Seneca,  that  the  more  I  go  into  society,  the  less 
I  return  a  man.  I  think,  with  Bacon,  that  *'  little  do  men  perceive 
what  solitude  is,  and  how  far  it  extendeth,  for  a  crowd  is  not  com- 
pany, and  faces  are  but  a  gallery  of  pictures,  and  talk  but  a  tinkling 
cymbal  where  there  is  no  love." 

Upon  the  wisdom  of  our  choice  of  friends,  depends  much  of  our 
moral  character  and  temporal  felicity.  If  they  are  not  better  than 
v/e,  they  will,  of  a  surety,  drag  us  down  to  their  own  level.  A  thing 
is  made  better  only  by  that  which  is  better  than  the  thing  itself. 
Gold  grows  not  in  value  when  loaded  with  lead  or  sheeted  with 
silver.  Cicero  says  in  his  essay  on  friendship  :  "  It  is  congruous 
that  a  man  be  good  himself  first,  and  then  he  can  choose  for  a  friend 
one  like  unto  himself." 

But  to  my  mind  it  were  more  advisable  that  he  seek  a  man  better- 
than  himself;  for  if  our  friends  are  better  than  ourselves,  they  will 
help  to  lift  us  up  to  their  lofty  nobility.  Like  Sir  John  Lubbock,  I 
disagree  with  the  rhapsodical  Emerson,  who  says  that  men  must 
always  descend  in  order  to  meet.  No;  they  may  meet,  and  yet  pre- 
serve each  his  individuality,  and  all  its  peculiar  properties,  provided 
the  ice  of  indifference,  and  the  frost  of  selfishness,  which  stand  like 
the  frozen  pillars  of  the  North,  between  the  souls  of  men  in  this, 
cold,  calculating  age,  are  melted  by  the  glowing  fire  of  true  friendship. 


285 

The  older  we  grow,  the  more  fioical  and  fastidious  we  become  in 
forming  friendships.  Some  writer,  whom  I  do  not  recall,  thus  des- 
cants on  this  idea  :  "  As  we  advance  in  years,  we  shrink  from  new- 
acquaintance.  Old  friends,  or  if  new,  nice  ones;  intelligent  society 
with  a  human  bent  in  it;  more  perfect  freedom  of  speech  and  action; 
— these  alone  make  social  life,  to  mature  persons,  worth  living.  All 
the  rest  is  strained  pretension  and  uncomfortable  politeness."  A 
young  man  once  sought  an  introduction  to  a  noted  woman  of  letters 
in  the  city  of  London.  She  is  not  now  of  much  importance,  being 
dead  and  forgotten.  She  was  then,  however,  a  shining  star  in  the 
firmament  of  the  literary  world.  And  as  all  literary  people  of  dis- 
tinction had  great  attractions  for  the  young  man,  he  expressed  a  wish, 
through  a  common  friend,  to  meet  her.  Imagine  his  surprise  when 
his  friend  wrote  :  *'  My  dear  feUow,  she  will  have  nothing  to  do 
with  you.  She  says  she  knows  a  great  deal  too  many  people 
already." 

At  the  time  I  first  heard  this,  I  thought  the  lady's  conduct  rather 
rude,  or  certainly  uncivil,  but  I  have  since  learned  to  envy  the 
woman's  moral  courage.  How  delightful  it  would  be  if  we  dared  to 
have  that  noble  truth  printed  on  our  cards,  and  when  folks  call  upon 
us  whom  we  do  not  care  to  know,  to  send  them  this  :  "  Mr.  So  and 
So's  compliments,  but  he  knows  a  great  many  people  alveady." 

While  I  express  and  applaud  this  sentiment  in  the  abstract,  I  free- 
ly concede  its  exercise  could  properly  be  carried  out  only  with  the 
nicest  caution  and  discrimination. 

As,  on  the  one  hand,  we  should  be  careful  in  selecting  our  friends; 
so,  on  the  other,  we  should  charge  ourselves  with  earnest  solicitude 
in  retaining  them.  It  ought,  therefore,  to  be  something  more  than 
a  venial  offence  that  would  move  us  to  part  with  an  old  and  service- 
able friend.  "  Old  wine,  old  books,  old  friends,"  sings  the  poet,  and 
with  all  my  heart  I  subscribe  to  the  sentiment.  We  should  leani 
that  all  men  are  not  made  in  the  same  mould  ;  and  "  how,"  says  A 
Kempis,  "  can  we  expect  to  have  another  to  our  liking,  if  we  can- 
not make  ourselves  such  as  we  would  wish."  We  should  endeavor 
to  be  patient  in  supporting  others'  defects  and  infirmities  of  what 
kind  soever,  because  we  have  also  many  things  which  others  must 
bear  with.  To  close  out  all  ground  for  complaint,  we  ought  to 
be  punctiliously  exact  in  performing  the  offices  which  friendships 


286 

demand,  and  this  the  more  so  where  special  favors  lay  claim  to 
our  gratitude,  for, 

"  Kindness  neglected  makes  friendship  suspected." 

Nor  should  we  be  too  rigorous  in  the  requirements  we  impose  upon 
others. 

A  sunny  serenity  of  soul,  urbanity  of  behavior,  equanimity  of 
mind,  generosity  of  judgment,  a  quick  and  lively  manifestation  of 
sympathy,  these  are  some  of  the  useful  and  necessary  requisites,  not 
only  for  forming,  but  for  indissolubly  cementing  a  friendship  whicb 
we  have  set  our  heart  upon  perpetuating  beyond  the  possibility  of 
rupture  or  decay.  It  is  with  a  good  friend,  as  it  is  with  childish 
innocence,  as  it  is  with  a  mother's  love  ;  its  full  value  is  never  known 
until  it  is  lost  to  us  entirely. 

"  Death,"  says  Lubbock,  "  cannot  sever  friends.  Friends,  though 
absent,  are  still  present ;  though  in  poverty,  they  are  rich  ;  though 
weak,  yet  in  the  enjoyment  of  health  ;  and  what  is  still  more  diffi- 
cult to  assert,  though  dead,  they  are  still  alive." 

'  *  Even  the  grave  is  a  bond  of  union, 
Spirit  and  spirit  best  hold  communion. 
Seen  through  faith  by  the  inward  eye, 
It  is  after  death  they  are  truly  nigh." 

— J.  C.  Mangan. 

"  To  me,  indeed,"  says  Ruskin,  "  Scipio  still  lives,  and  will  always 
live,  for  I  love  the  virtue  of  that  man,  and  that  worth  is  not  yet  ex- 
tinguished." "  And,"  says  Lubbock,  in  concluding  his  lecture,  "  if 
we  choose  our  friends  for  what  they  are,  and  not  for  what  they  have, 
and  if  we  deserve  so  great  a  blessing,  then  they  will  be  always  with 
us,  preserved  in  absence,  and  even  after  death,  in  the  amber  of 
memory." 

Thus  far  I  have  said  nothing  of  the  Christian  side  of  friendship  ; 
in  fact,  almost  all  that  has  been  predicated  of  the  subject  might 
fittingly  be  affirmed  of  an  association  of  affectionate  people  who 
unite  themselves  on  purely  natural  grounds  and  motives.  The  real 
reason  is,  I  do  not  deem  it  necessary.  I  am  quite  sure  that  any 
Christian,  who  is  not  such  merely  in  name,  or  one  particularly  who 
makes  some  profession  of  piety,  is  fully  conscious  of  those  Christian 


287 

qualities  and  virtues  which  should  be  superadded  to  those  of  which 
mention  has  been  made,  and  description  given  in  limning  the  fair 
features  of  true  friendship.  Under  this  aspect,  though,  I  ought  to 
make  one  allusion.  It  has  come  to  mind  from  the  perusal  of  the 
preface  to  that  delightful  little  book,  "  The  Will  of  God  :  How  to 
detect  it  in  our  actions."  It  is,  that,  as  friends,  we  should  have  a 
lively  concern  and  active  interest  in  the  spiritual  progress  of  each 
other.  This  will  often  entail  the  delicate  duty  of  fraternal  correc- 
tion, and  a  candid  and  fearless  exposure  of  friends'  respective  faults 
to  each  other.  Perhaps  I  cannot  do  better  than  to  transcribe, 
paraphrastically,  the  writer's  sentiments  : 

"  Outside  the  walls  of  a  rehgious  house,  one  rarely  meets  with  any 
who  are  much  concerned  with  our  spiritual  progress.  Provided  we 
are  what  is  usually  called  '  good,'  our  most  intimate  worldly  friends 
are  perfectly  satisfied.  How  seldom  is  it  our  happiness  in  the  busy 
paths  of  life,  to  find  that  *  pearl  beyond  price,'  the  brother  in  Christ, 
who,  for  the  great  love  of  God,  will  tell  us  kindly  of  our  faults. 
There  are  many  enough  to  ridicule  them  and  to  mimic  them ;  plenty 
to  assail  them  in  our  absence  with  unpitying  scorn  and  unqualified 
censure  ;  and  there  are  even  some  who  find  a  malignant  gratification 
in  trampling  rudely  on  those  weaknesses  of  character  to  which  we 
are  most  sensitive.  Self-love  and  wounded  feelings  too  often  pre- 
vent us  profiting  by  hard  lessons  of  instruction  such  as  these.  But 
what  an  ineffable  blessing  it  is  to  meet  a  real  friend,  who  at  much 
self-sacrifice,  and  it  may  be  at  the  risk  of  grave  offence,  tries  with  a 
firm  but  gentle  hand  to  remove  the  dross  that  renders  the  pure 
gold  of  honest  purpose  unworthy  of  the  favor  of  heaven." 

As  the  concluding  portion  of  this  paper,  I  desire  to  introduce  a 
few  notable  instances  of  friendship  : 

Charles  Lamb,  in  his  essay  of  Elia,  makes  one  curious  and  clever, 
but  instructive  statement  in  respect  of  imperfect  sympathies.  He 
critically  excepts  therein  to  that  sentiment  of  the  auther  of  "  Religio 
Medici,"  when  he  asserted,  "  I  am  of  a  constitution  so  general  that 
\t  consorts  and  sympathizes  with  all  things." 

"  For  myself,"  says  Lamb,  "  I  confess  that  I  do  feel  the  differences 
of  mankind  to  an  unhealthy  excess.  I  cannot  look  with  an  indiffer- 
ent eye  upon  things  or  persons.  I  can  feel  for  all,  but  I  cannot 
towards  all  equally.     I  cannot  like  all  people  alike."    And  Lamb  is 


288 

right.  For  if  we  could  not  have  special  predilections,  we  could  have 
no  friendship.  If  we  were  restricted  to  that  general  and  indefinite 
sympathy  for  mankind,  spoken  of,  we  could  love  none  in  particular. 
We  are  bound  to  love  all  men,  it  is  true,  for  this  is  the  law  of  Christ; 
but  nowhere  has  the  Saviour  enjoined  the  precept  in  the  rigid  or 
exclusive  sense  which  would  debar  us  from  contracting  special 
alliances  with  chosen  souls.  Nay  ;  so  far  from  it,  the  gentle,  the  all- 
loving  Redeemer  had  His  own  chosen  friends.  The  Sacred  Record, 
so  far  as  I  remember,  furnishes  us  with  but  two  instances  of  the 
God-man's  weeping,  and  one  of  these  was  by  the  grave  of  His  dead 
friend  Lazarus.  Jesus  wept  at  the  sight  of  human  suffering.  He 
wept  because  Mary  and  Martha,  His  beloved  handmaidens  and 
friends,  wept  at  the  loss  of  their  only  brother  Lazarus.  He  wept 
because  He  was  the  sweetness  of  the  incarnation  of  self-forgetful 
compassion,  which  thought  of  the  wounds  and  bruises  of  other 
hearts,  and  how  He  might  heal  them.  And  He  wept  for  all ;  but 
His  holiest  tears,  I  think,  were  shed  for  the  sake  of  friends.  And 
many  a  time,  no  doubt,  when  worn  and  weary  by  the  toilsome  labors 
of  the  day,  did  He  seek  refreshment  and  repose  in  the  house  of 
His  much-prized  friends  Martha  and  Mary,  preferably  to  sharing 
the  hospitality  of  the  high-born  ones  of  earth.  When  He  retired 
into  the  gray  twilight  of  the  garden,  in  that  sad  and  solemn  hour 
when  His  soul  was  sorrowful  even  unto  death,  even  then  He  found 
some  consolation  in  choosing  for  His  company  those  friends  whom 
He  loved  the  best  of  all.  It  was  Peter,  and  James  and  John,  and 
only  these  of  all  His  followers,  whose  happy  privilege  it  was  to  see 
Him  radiant  with  glory  at  the  Transfiguration  on  Mt.  Thabor. 

There  was  an  instance  still  more  noteworthy,  when  He  manifested 
a  special  fondness  and  attachment  for  one  above  all  the  rest.  "  Now, 
there  was  leaning  on  Jesus'  bosom  one  of  His  disciples  whom  Jesus 
loved."  There  was  then  in  the  fraternity  of  Apostles  one  whom  it  was 
not  irreverent  nor  miscalled  to  consider  the  especial  favorite  of  Jesus. 
Yes;  this  Jesus,  whose  mind  was  filled  with  the  magnitude  of  His 
mission,  the  greatness  of  His  sublime  undertaking  for  the  salvation 
of  the  whole  world;  who,  at  the  very  moment  to  which  the  text  al- 
ludes, was  oppressed  with  sad  anticipations  of  the  defections  of  His 
dearest  friends;  this  friend  of  man — weak,  fallen  man — in  all  ages, 
conditions,  and  countries,  had  leaning  upon  His  bosom  one  whom 


289 

He  loved  as  the  apple  of  His  own  eye.  What  an  affection  was  that 
which  subsisted  between  the  Master  and  the  youngest  of  His  dis- 
ciples, John ! 

I  have  no  wish  to  sermonize,  dear  reader,  but  I  may  ask  you  to 
cast  an  eye  upon  that  sublime  scene  in  the  coenacle  of  Jerusalem. 
It  is  the  eve  of  our  dear  Lord's  bitter  passion  and  death.  He  sits 
surrounded  by  the  twelve  of  His  own  choice.  He  felt  and  He  knew 
that  they  followed  Him  tliither,  more  from  motives  of  interest  than 
affection.  They  came,  many  of  them,  for  the  loaves  and  fishes. 
They  eagerly  awaited  the  imaginary  honors  and  distinctions,  which, 
it  was  believed,  He  would  bestow  upon  them  in  that  kingdom  of 
which,  as  they  fondly  thought,  he  was  about  to  come  into  possession. 
Well  might  he  tell  them,  as  He  told  the  multitudes,  to  labor  not  for 
the  meat  which  perisheth,  but  for  that  which  endureth  to  everlasting 
life.  He  knew  they  would  forsake  Him  in  the  hour  of  the  triumph 
of  His  enemies;  that  one  would  betray  Him;  another  deny  Him; 
that  all  would  desert  Him  as  soon  as  their  expectations  were 
damped  by  disappointment;  and  that  even  that  beloved  disciple, 
who  leaned  upon  His  bosom,  whom  He  pressed  to  the  tendrils  of 
His  heart,  would  yield  to  timidity  and  base-born  human  respect, 
and  coldly  leave  Him  to  His  fate.  Perhaps  it  was  compunction  that 
brought  him  to  the  foot  of  the  Cross  to  take  his  stand  by  the  side  of 
the  Virgin  mother,  whose  life  was  crowned  with  sorrow. 

And  yet,  despite  it  all,  Jesus'  love  for  His  little  family  burns  with 
undiminished  ardor,  especially  for  His  bosom-friend  and  follower, 
John;  and  He  pours  forth  to  His  heavenly  Father  that  touching  and 
affectionate  prayer  for  the  unity  and  protection  of  His  flock:  "  Holy 
Father,  keep  them  in  Thy  name." 

In  the  life  of  Jesus  we  find  the  highest  perfection,  in  which  were 
admirably  blended  the  special  and  general  affections.  We  discover 
in  our  Lord  a  breadth  and  scope  of  affection  which  embraced  the 
whole  of  humanity,  not  excepting  the  enemies  who  nailed  Him  to 
the  Cross ;  and  yet  this  same  boundless  affection  was  so  flexible 
that  it  was  capable  of  contracting  itself  to  the  compass  of  a  single 
individual,  whom  He  loved  more  than  all.  And  tbis  conduct  of 
our  Redeemer  is  an  amply  conclusive  answer  to  those  who,  with 
an  air  of  philosophic  superiority,  rail  against  pariicular  friend- 
ships as  something  decidedly  to  be  reprobated  and  condemned;  for 
19 


290 

as  in  the  heart  of  Jesus,  so  in  every  well-regulated  human  heart  all 
the  affections,  general  and  particular,  are  so  nicely  balanced,  and  so 
properly  preserved,  that  by  due  harmony  and  subordination  they 
must  contribute  to  the  good  both  of  society  and  the  individual  man. 

It  has  been  said  (and  I  refer  to  the  matter  with  some  delicacy) 
that  such  friendships  ought  not  to  exist  between  lay  people  and 
those  who  make  profession  of  religion.  Not,  indeed,  that  they  are 
wrong  in  themselves,  but  that  they  may  tend  to  the  detriment  of  one 
or  both  concerned.  I  answer,  so  may  anything,  however  good,  be 
perverted.  And  surely  Martha  and  Mary  were  lay  people,  and  Jesus 
was  a  religious.  So  that,  while  I  concede  that  such  friendships 
ought  to  be  entered  upon  after  due  deliberation,  and  with  nice 
discretion,  yet  I  hold  that  they  are  not  only  wholesome,  but  even 
holy  and  fruitful  in  good  results. 

We  have  many  examples  among  those  whom  we  now  honor  as 
saints  to  give  force  to  our  assertion.  But  first  let  me  refer  to  one 
who,  though  not  a  saint,  was,  when  living,  as  beloved  as  he  was  ad- 
mired, and  who,  though  dead,  has  left  a  memory  which  abides  in 
benediction.  I  mean  the  celebrated  J.  K.  L  ,  Bishop  of  Kildare  and 
Leighlin.  I  make  no  doubt  most  of  my  readers  have  heard  of  his 
famous  friendship  for  "  Marianna,"  to  whom  he  wrote  such  exquis- 
itely beautiful  epistles.  I  have  read,  and  to  some  extent  studied,  the 
life  of  this  master-mind,  this  transcendent  genius.  I  have  not  been 
able  sufficiently  to  admire  him  as  bishop,  statesman,  publicist,  and 
scholar.  Whether  as  the  great  tribune  thundering  against  lawless- 
ness and  crime,  as  the  fervid  pulpit  orator  pleading  the  cause  of  the 
poor  and  the  oppressed;  or  as  the  majestic  statesman,  bending  with 
consummate  tact  and  ability  the  minds  of  others  to  his  own  saga- 
cious counsels, — no  matter  in  which  of  these  aspects  we  fix  our  scru- 
tiny upon  him,  in  none  does  he  shine  foi-th  a  truer,  nobler,  grander 
character  than  he  discovers  himself  to  be  in  penning  those  letters  of 
unaffected  friendship,  which,  up  to  the  day  of  his  lamented  death, 
he  continued  to  write  to  "  Marianna  "  and  a  few  chosen  friends. 

I  shall  make  no  allusion  to  the  old  story  of  Damon  and  Pythias, 
which  is  so  well  known  as  to  be  proverbial. 

The  friendship  of  Beaumont  and  Fletcher  is  quite  noteworthy. 

These  two  literary  celebrities  had  but  one  mind  and  one  wish  for 
each  other's  fame  and  reputation,  and  so  concertedly  did  they  blend 


291 

their  labors,  that,  it  is  said,  critics  cannot  distinguish  the  productions 
of  the  one  from  those  of  the  other  ;  and  I  believe  it  has  been  said 
that  biographers  are  unable  to  write  the  life  of  one,  without 
running  into  the  life  of  the  other.  Their  lives  were  as  those  of 
brothers. 

Montaigne's  affection  for  Charron  is  noticed  with  admiration  by 
many  authors.  Montaigne  allowed  his  friend  to  many  into  his 
family,  and  Charron,  in  gratitude,  willed  his  whole  fortune  to  Mon- 
taigne's sister  after  he  had  been  married  to  her. 

The  pathetic  hues  of  Halleck  on  the  death  of  his  friend  Drake, 
are  known  to  every  reader  of  American  literature : 

"  Green  be  the  turf  above  thee, 

Friend  of  my  better  days  ; 
None  knew  thee  but  to  love  thee, 

Nor  named  thee  but  to  praise. 
Tears  fell  when  thou  wert  dying. 

From  eyes  unused  to  weep  ; 
And  long  where  thou  art  lying, 

Will  tears  the  cold  turf  steep." 

Tennyson's  matchless  monument  of  poesy,  built  in  memory  of  his 
dead  friend,  Arthur  Hallam,  will  endure  for  ages,  as  a  living  testi- 
monial to  their  mutual  love  and  friendship. 

Those  who  have  read  Gerald  Griffin's  "  Invasion,"  need  not  be 
reminded  of  the  beautiful  tale  of  friendship  told  therein,  which  is 
one  of  the  most  fascinating  effusions  on  the  same  subject  anywhere 
to  be  found. 

The  sad  and  melancholy,  but  singularly  faithful  and  tender  friend- 
ship of  the  Kev.  Father  Meehan  for  the  iU-starred  son  of  genius, 
James  Clarence  Mangan,  is  full  of  pathos  and  exquisite  sentiment. 
This  good  priest  it  was,  "  who,"  as  John  Mitchell  says,  "  had  always 
appreciated  him  as  a  poet,  loved  him  as  a  man,  and  yearned  over 
him  as  a  soul  in  the  jaws  of  perdition,"  who  stood  by  his  bedside  in 
the  last  hours  of  that  wild,  weird,  tumultuous  life,  to  smooth  his 
pathway  to  the  tomb,  and  anxiously  and  affectionately  to  carry  the 
final  consolations  of  religion  to  this  rarely-gifted  creature  ere  he 
passed  to  the  voiceless  valley  of  the  far-away  land.  Ah !  that  he  had 
been  true  to  that  promise  long  before  made  to  another  anxious 


292 

friend,  the  story  of  that  strange  death-in-life  might  not  read  like  the 
record  of  a  ghoul : 

"  Fare  thee  well  !  we  now  know  each  the  other  ; 

Each  has  struck  the  other's  inmost  chords. 
Fare  thee  well !  my  friend  and  more  than  brother, 
And  may  scorn  pursue  me  if  I  smother 

In  my  soul  thy  words  1 " 

The  last  shining  of  that  meteoric  star,  as  it  descended  below  the 
horizon  of  the  world,  was  rendered  faint  and  fitful  by  the  clouds 
and  shadows  of  a  dark  and  desolate  life  ;  but  let  us  hope  that  in  the 
brightness  of  divine  mercy  it  rose  radiantly  in  the  land  of  spirits. 

I  shall  finish  these  citations  by  a  reference  to  the  deathless  and 
immortal  friendship  that  existed  between  the  great  St.  Bernard  and 
the  pious  Ermengarde,  Countess  of  Brittany.  Oh !  what  a  chaste 
and  saintly  union  between  these  interior  souls,  which  the  Holy  Spirit 
of  God  alone  could  inspire.  A  woman  of  great  force  of  character, 
of  great  talents  and  accomplishments,  much  sought  and  flattered  by 
the  gay  courtiers  of  her  age,  she  passed  her  time  amid  a  host  of 
worldly  engagements,  her  affections  divided  between  the  school  of 
Satan  and  the  school  of  Christ,  till  she  found,  in  her  friendship 
with  St.  Bernard,  the  means  of  mounting  to  the  sublime  heights  of 
sanctity.  And  what  a  spirit  of  fatherly  care  and  pastoral  tenderness 
breathes  through  every  line  of  those  beautiful  and  affectionate 
epistles,  which  he  wrote  to  her  from  the  silent  cell  of  his  cloister,  or 
upon  the  course  of  his  toilsome  journeys. 

Oh !  Blessed  Bernard,  glorious  champion  of  the  Cross,  I  seem  to 
behold  thee  now,  raising  thy  powerful  voice  amid  the  chorus  of  the 
awakening  nations,  bearing  aloft  the  banner  of  the  Crucified,  and 
bidding  kings  and  princes  rise  from  their  jewelled  thrones,  and  cast- 
ing aside  purple  robes  and  glittering  sceptres,  make  their  way  over 
sea  and  mountain  to  far-off  Palestine.  Grand  and  incomparable 
leader,  art  thou  calling  the  nations  to  arise  to  the  rescue  of  the 
sepulchre  of  the  Saviour.  But  greater  still  doth  thy  greatness  shine, 
when,  after  long  communings  with  thy  God,  thou  sittest,  pen  in 
hand,  to  pour  out  the  wealth  of  thy  affection,  and  the  spiritual  ten- 
derness of  thy  soul  upon  her  to  whom  thou  wert  so  closely  united  in 
the  bonds  of  Christ. 


"Bernard,  Abbot  of  Clairvaux,  salutes  his  beloved  daughter  in  Jesus 
Christ,  Ermengarde,  formerly  Countess  of  Brittany,  now  a  servant 
of  God  ;  and  assures  her  that  he  entertains  towards  her  every  feeling 
of  pure  and  Christian  affection. 

"  Why  cannot  I  make  my  mind  as  visible  to  you  as  this  paper,  that 
you  may  read  in  my  heart  the  sentiments  of  love  with  which  the 
Lord  inspires  me,  and  the  zeal  He  gives  me  for  your  soul.  You 
would  discover  there  what  no  tongue  could  express.  I  am  with  you 
in  spirit,  though  absent  in  body.  It  is  true  that  I  cannot  show  you  my 
heart ;  but  if  I  cannot  manifest  it  to  you  entirely,  you  may  still,  if 
you  will,  understand  it  ;  you  have  only  to  dive  into  your  own  to 
find  mine,  and  attribute  to  me  as  much  love  for  you  as  you  find 
there  for  me.  Humility  and  modesty  will  not  allow  you  to  believe 
that  you  love  me  better  than  I  do  you  ;  and  you  must  think,  on  the 
contrary,  that  the  same  God  who  inclines  you  to  love  me,  and  to  be 
guided  by  my  advice,  gives  me  an  equal  ardor  to  respond  to  this 
affection,  and  a  tender  interest  in  your  service.  Understand,  then, 
how  you  have  kept  near  me  ever  since  my  departure  ;  for  myself,  I 
may  say  with  truth,  that  I  did  not  leave  you  when  I  left  you,  and 
that  I  find  you  wherever  I  am." 

Is  there  anything  in  the  history  of  the  human  heart,  so  touching, 
so  charming,  so  divine  ?  Oh  !  that  every  shepherd  of  souls  might  be 
able  to  show  the  same  sweet  tenderness  and  deathless  affection 
for  the  members  of  the  flock  of  Christ  committed  to  his  care  and 
control. 

I  shall  close  this  protracted  paper  with  some  pearls  of  wisdom 
from  the  wise. 

"I  cherish  good  hopes,  and  believe  that  I  am  loved  by  my 
friends,"  said  Marcus  Aurelius. 


"  Friend  is  a  word  of  royal  tone, 
Friend  is  a  poem  all  alone," 


says  the  Persian  poet. 
And  Pope  sings  : 


Heaven  forming  each  on  other  to  depend, 

A  master,  or  a  servant,  or  a  friend. 

Bids  each  on  other  for  assistance  call. 

Till  one  man's  weakness  grows  the  strength  of  aU.' 


294 

And  Sydney  declares  :  "  Nothing  is  more  terrible   to  the   guilty 
heart  than  the  eye  of  a  respected  friend." 
Confucius  lays  down  the  following  : 

"  No  one  should  have  a  friend  that  is  not  equal  to  himself, 
They  halve  one's  cares,  and  double  one's  joys." 

"  They  are  wealth  to  the  poor,  strength  to  the  weak,  and  health  to 
the  sick."  "  Whether  near  or  at  a  distance,  they  neither  suspect 
nor  doubt  one." 

He  speaketh  best,  who  speaketh  last;  hence  let  the  son  of  Sirach 
prescribe  our  parting  advice  : 

"  If  thou  wouldst  get  a  friend,  prove  him  first,  and  be  not  hasty 
to  credit  him." 

"  Some  man  is  a  friend  for  his  own  occasion,  and  will  not  abide  in 
the  day  of  trouble." 

**  Take  heed  of  thy  friends.  A  faithful  friend  is  a  strong  defence; 
and  he  that  hath  found  such  a  one,  hath  found  a  treasure.  Nothing 
doth  countervail  a  faithful  friend,  and  his  excellency  is  invaluable." 

"  A  faithful  friend  is  the  medicine  of  life,  and  they  that  fear  the 
Lord  shall  find  him." 

**  Whoso  feareth  the  Lord  shall  direct  his  friendship  aright,  for  as 
he  is,  so  shall  his  neighbor  be." 

*'  Change  not  thy  friend  for  any  good,  by  no  means;  nor  a  faith- 
ful brother  for  the  gold  of  Ophir." 

*'  Love  thy  friend  and  be  faithful  to  him,  for  as  a  man  hath 
destroyed  his  enemy,  so  hast  thou  lost  the  love  of  thy  neighbor." 


XIII. 

AN    OLD    STUDENT'S    RECOLLECTION    OF    SETON 

HALL. 

Among  the  Catholic  Colleges  of  our  country,  Seton  Hall  stands  in 
no  secondary  station.  Three  decades  of  years  have  not  departed 
since  its  foundation,  and  yet  it  can  claim  no  slender  share  in  lasting, 
good  results.  Wisdom  characterized  the  choice  of  Ai'chbishop 
Bayley  and  Bishop  McQuaid,  when,  after  deciding  to  remove  from 
Madison,  where  the  college  was  originally  located,  they  selected  the 
present  site,  every  inch  of  which  is  imaged  in  the  minds  of  "Alma 
Mater's  "  sons,  with  scenes  that  constitute  an  ever-cherished  charm, 
whereon  remembrance  loves  to  linger,  in  recalling  college  life. 

Of  the  friendships  there  formed  the  link  is  yet  unlocked.  The 
faces  that  we  knew  still  better  than  our  books,  are  unforgotten. 
The  spots  where,  as  trembling  truants,  we  sequestered  our  forms 
from  the  lynx-eyed  vigilance  of  the  patient  Prefect,  seem  still  to 
afford  us  the  succor  of  their  secret  shade.  The  winding  paths 
through  the  wild-woods;  the  broad,  oft-travelled  turnpike;  the  neat 
village  nestling  in  the  valley;  the  mountains  beyond,  hfting  aloft 
their  green-tufted  tops,  all  are  as  fresh  and  fair  as  the  gold-gleaming 
vistas  that  tantalized  our  youthful  vision,  and  fed  the  hungry  hope  of 
boyish  expectation. 

True  it  is,  this  is  more  or  less  the  experience  of  every  college-bred 
man  ;  and  we  must  affirm  that  he  is  but  a  poor  product  of  her 
fostering  care,  who  treasures  not  even  a  lingering  affection  for  the 
mother  who  nursed  him  in  the  cradle  of  science,  and  slaked  his 
thirst  for  information  from  the  copious  cup  of  knowledge.  All  this 
is  true  as  it  is  trite,  and  yet  we  scruple  not  to  say  that  few  feel 
fonder  or  stronger  regard  for  their  old  college  home,  than  the 
students  of  Setonia. 


296 

Every  year  improvements  have  occurred  in  the  various  depart- 
ments of  the  institution,  securing,  thereby,  greater  usefulness  and 
perfection.  Those  who  saw  Seton  Hall  in  1865,  wo  aid  not  recognize 
the  superb  stone  structure  that  rose  upon  the  ruins  of  the  marble 
building.  Even  within  the  past  ten  years  various  improvements 
have  occurred,  which  add  most  happily  to  the  efficiency  of  the  edu- 
cational department,  and  increase  the  comfort  of  the  inmates.  He 
who  sat  in  the  study-hall  eight  years  ago,  and  fumbled  with  the 
heavy-hinged  covers  of  the  old-style  desks,  would  now  be  delighted 
to  plmt  his  person  in  a  commodious  arm-chair,  before  a  neat  and 
well-appointed  escritoire. 

Among  the  most  recent  changes,  we  may  notice  the  flagged  walks 
before  the  college  property,  on  both  sides  of  South  Orange  Avenue, 
now  no  longer,  as  of  old,  a  mass  of  mud,  but  a  macadamized  road 
with  a  line  of  horse-cars;  the  well-formed,  romantic  paths  that  turn 
through  the  college  woods,  now  beginning  to  look  like  a  park;  gas- 
light introduced  on  the  pla^'-ground;  new,  solid  flooring  for  the  ball 
alleys;  and,  instead  of  the  venerable  pump  of  many  memories,  a 
bronze  fountain  that  rises  under  a  graceful  pavilion. 

It  would  be  an  unpardonable  omission  on  our  part,  were  we  to  fail 
to  notice  the  work  thus  far  accomplished  in  the  Ecclesiastical  Sem- 
inary. The  seminary  has  ever  been  the  object  of  devoted  care  for 
the  Bishops  of  the  diocese,  and  the  officers  of  Seton  Hall ;  and  it  is 
meet  that  it  should  be  so.  Let  us  rejoice  that  our  seminary  is  equal 
to  its  mission.  Men  of  marked  ability  have  graced  its  professorial 
chairs.  Need  we  recall  the  names  of  Archbishop  Corrigan,  Eev.  Dr. 
Brann,  Rev.  J.  de  Concilio,  Rev.  W.  J.  Wiseman,  and  Dr.  Smith? 
Out  of  its  doors  have  gone  forth  devoted  laborers  into  the  dioceses 
of  Newark  and  Trenton.  Evei^  church,  and  chapel,  and  school,  by 
them  erected,  is  another  monument  to  mark  the  efficiency  and 
success  of  Seton  Hall  Seminary.  And  these  same  men  were  invalua- 
ble auxiliaries  in  the  task  of  educating  and  disciplining  the  young 
collegians.  It  was  a  test  school  for  the  practice  of  patience,  and  the 
cultivation  of  meek  deportment 

Of  the  professors  who  have  been  honored  with  positions  in  the  in- 
stitution, I  need  pronounce  no  eulogium.  There  was  one,* however, 
perhaps  best  known  of  all,  at  least  to  students  and  educators.  He 
grew  gray  in  the  service,  and  passed  away  as  unobserved  as  he  had 


297 

lived.  He  was  "  a  helluo  librorum,"  and  the  lore  of  antiquity  seem- 
ed all  garnered  into  the  storehouse  of  his  memory.  His  quaint  say- 
ings and  old  saws  were  a  never-failing  fund  of  delight;  and  the 
geniality  of  his  temper,  not  less  than  the  genius  of  his  mind,  led 
captive  the  student  heart.  History  tells  of  the  old  man,  who,  when 
dying,  prayed  the  Lord  to  keep  his  memory  green;  we  had  almost 
said  the  prayer  was  supererogatory  in  the  case  of  the  late  lamented 
Professor  Blume. 

"  Suaviter  in  modo  fortiter  in  re,"  has  been  the  strong  yet  mild 
motto  of  this  institution;  and,  from  all  that  observation  has  elicited, 
we  can,  we  think,  correctly  conclude  that  it  is  yet  a  potent  principle 
of  government  from  which  the  faculty  have  deemed  it  unwise  to 
depart. 

Thus  we  have  briefly  described  the  place  where  we  passed  away 
so  many  pleasant  hours  of  our  earlier  life.  We  should  like,  did 
space  permit,  to  recall  some  reminiscence  of  the  best  known  of  our 
contemporaries;  but  perhaps  the  topic  would  be  of  limited  interest, 
since  they  were  unknown  both  to  those  who  went  before,  and  those 
who  followed  us.  Yet  our  heart  thrills  when  we  summon  up  the 
scenes  of  the  trials  and  triumphs  of  those  days.  With  eye  of  im- 
agination, we  behold  the  plodding,  patient  industry  of  our  close 
competitor  for  the  coveted  prize;  let  us  hope  that  we  gazed  upon 
him  then  with  a  look  as  unjaundiced  by  jealousy  as  it  is  now.  With 
palpitating  heart  we  awaited  the  eventful  night  upon  which  our 
friends  should  witness  our  debut  upon  the  boards  in  the  "  cork  " 
character,  or  yet  in  the  more  heavy  and  pretentious  role  of  untried 
tragedy. 

And  we  ponder,  too,  on  Hallow  Eve,  when  we  danced  like  Der- 
vishes before  the  crackling  bonfire,  and  delivered  our  mock  speeches, 
Ijpth  in  the  classics  barbarized  and  the  vernacular  "stumpified." 
But  most  of  all,  we  seem  to  stand  spectators  of  the  hard-fought 
fight  between  the  Alerts  and  their  friendly  foes,  the  Rose-Hills. 
Victory  is  ours,  we  think,  and,  with  three-times-three,  we  make  the 
welkin  ring;  then,  with  happy  hearts,  we  hasten  to  the  refectory,  to 
feast  our  friends,  to  sing  our  songs,  and  to  exhibit  our  maiden  ef- 
forts at  speechifying,  and  thus  to  show  our  visitors  that  we  are  no 
less  formidable  at  the  festive  board  than  when  on  the  diamond,  we 
might  wish  to  wield  the  willow. 


298 

It  is  scenes  like  these,  hardly  less  than  the  remembrance  of  our 
excellent  moral  and  intellectual  training,  that  endear  to  our  memory 
the  recollection  of  our  "  Alma  Mater."  We  are  proud  of  her  pros- 
pects, and  we  fondly  pray  that  no  cloud  of  ill-fortune  will  ever  cast 
one  speck  of  shade  upon  the  lustre  of  Setonia's  untarnished  fame. 
"  May  she  live  long  and  prosper." 


xiy. 

FILIAL  AFFECTION. 

It  has  been  my  fortune,  good  or  ill,  to  have  seen,  in  a  moderately 
short  life,  no  inconsiderable  share  of  what  we  in  religion,  for  lieu, 
perhaps,  of  a  better  designation,  are  wont  to  call  "  the  world."  This 
is  not  due, — at  least  I  hope  I  should  not  be  so  vain  as  to  think  it 
due — to  any  superior  capacity  for  observation ;  but  to  the  fact  that 
I  occupied  a  somewhat  enlarged  sphere  of  observation,  the  result  of 
early  rambling,  of  mingling  with  the  world  for  many  years  before 
God  put  it  in  my  soul  to  become  a  soldier,  though  a  poor  one,  in 
His  holy  Sanctuary.  Now,  what  I  say  is  this:  that  I  have  never  yet  met 
a  member  of  the  human  family,  no  matter  how  obdurated  by  vice, 
or  sunk  in  sin,  or  crimsoned  in  crime;  no  matter  how  long  the  peiiod 
of  his  absence  from  the  parental  roof -tree;  no  matter  what  or  how 
bitter  the  recollection  of  his  early  life  at  home;  no  matter  what  pre- 
Tious  or  present  conditions  might  be — I  have  never  met  one,  I  say, 
of  whom  I  could  affirm,  that  in  that  man's  soul  every  spark  of  fihal 
affection  was  dead.  It  is  too  true,  iudeed,  that  in  several  instances 
some  of  these  of  whom  I  speak,  had  acted  with  fiendish  cruelty  to- 
wards those  who  "  in  groans  and  travails "  had  brought  them  into 
life,  and  had  shown  "  how  sharper  than  a  serpent's  tooth,  is  an  un- 
grateful child."  But  for  all  that,  there  came  moments  upon  them 
when  the  heart  was  touched  and  the  spirit  softened,  when  the  foun- 
tains of  feeling  were  unlocked,  and  then,  out  of  their  callous,  sin- 
dried  souls,  there  gushed  forth  floods  of  tears  to  bedew  the  long- 
buried,  but  deathless  memory,  of  parents  neglected,  despised,  for- 
gotten. If  I  may  be  permitted  to  intrude  my  personal  experience 
upon  my  readers,  I  have  to  say,  that,  among  the  foibles  and  follies 
of  my  youth,  there  is  hardly  one  that  I  more  deeply  deplore,  and 
that  comes  home  to  me  at  this  distant  day  with  fresher  and  more 


300 

poignant  regret,  than  my  having  once  abandoned  my  good  parents, 
and  left  them  for  an  entire  year  in  ignorance  as  to  whether  I  were 
living  or  dead.  And  yet,  despite  my  deliberate  dereliction  of  duty 
(what  contradictions  in  the  character  of  man !),  well  do  I  remember, 
as  I  trudged  along  the  roads  of  Western  New  York,  or  as  I  sat  in 
solitude  upon  the  ship's  prow,  upon  the  broad  Atlantic,  how  I  often 
lifted  my  gaze  towards  the  stars  at  midnight,  and  then  would  come 
upon  me  such  a  rush  of  remorseful  memories,  as  I  thought  of  my 
perfidious  ingratitude,  that  I  cried  till  it  seemed  as  if  my  spirit  were 
riven  and  my  heart  would  break.  Ah !  I  think  there  is  no  more 
galling  recollection  in  the  history  of  any  man  than  the  reproach 
which  memory  frequently  flings  before  him,  who  has  been  wanting 
in  duty  to  his  parents.  Apropos  of  this,  some  may  remember  read- 
ing the  pathetic  story  of  Mrs.  Sigourney,  the  American  authoress, 
related  by  herself,  concerning  her  keen  and  ever-abiding  pain  for  a. 
slight  waywardness  towards  her  mother,  who,  when  her  daughter, 
smitten  by  contrition  for  her  unkindness,  sought  the  sick  bedside  to 
beg  forgiveness,  was  already  dead.  "  And  old  as  I  am  now,"  says 
she,  "  1  would  give  worlds,  were  they  mine  to  give,  could  my  mother 
have  but  lived  to  tell  me  that  she  forgave  my  childish  ingratitude. 
But  I  cannot  call  her  back;  and  when  I  stand  by  her  grave,  and 
whenever  I  think  of  her  manifold  kindness,  the  memory  of  that 
reproachful  look  she  gave  me  will  bite  like  a  serpent  and  sting  like 
an  adder." 

I  have  adduced  these  personal  narratives  in  corroboration  of  my 
first  assertion  as  to  the  universality  of  the  feeling  of  filial  affection. 
The  reason  is  not  far  to  seek. 

Man  is  not  more  nor  less  than  his  nature  ;  he  cannot  stifle  his 
nature,  as  he  can  his  conscience.  Nature  will  assert  herself  some 
time  or  other.  Parental  love  and  filial  affection  are  natural  to  man, 
for  they  are  graven,  by  the  God  of  nature,  on  the  human  heart. 
For  a  time  these  feelings  may  seem  dead  or  dormant ;  but  it  is  only 
a  temporary  sleep.  It  is  the  law  of  nature.  And  hence,  as  we  know, 
this  sentiment  can  find  a  lodgment,  not  only  in  the  Christian,  but 
also  in  the  pagan  breast.  Nay,  as  a  sentiment  in  the  rational,  it  be- 
comes a  lively  instinct  in  the  irrational  creation.  Natural  history  is 
replete  with  examples.  We  hear,  it  is  true,  more  about  the  love  of 
the  old  for  the  young,  as,  for  example,  when  the  pelican  is  said  to- 


301 

pour  out  its  heart's  blood  to  give  life  to  its  little  ones;  but  instances 
of  reciprocal  love  on  the  part  of  the  yoang,  are  not  a  rarity.  Storks, 
crows,  and  ravens  cover  their  parent  bii'ds  with  their  wings,  and 
bear  them  on  their  backs,  when  they  are  rendered  helpless.  Even 
the  fierce  and  greedy  lionling  will  tear  the  flesh  of  his  prey  and  give 
it  to  his  mother. 

Filial  affection  is  a  natural  virtue  apart  from  Christian  motives, 
and  hence  it  was  not  unknown  to  the  pagans.  I  think  it  is  Addison, 
who,  in  one  of  his  essays  in  the  Spectator,  refers  to  a  custom,  once 
extant  in  China,  of  razing  to  the  ground,  and  covering  with  salt, 
symbolical  of  purification,  the  foundations  of  a  city,  one  of  whose 
inhabitants  had  been  guilty  of  any  cruelty  to  his  parents.  At  the 
burning  of  Troy,  ^Eneas,  as  we  learn  from  Homer,  bore  forth  from 
the  burning  walls  of  the  city  his  aged  father  upon  his  shoulders. 
To  which  incident  Shakesi^eare  aptly  alluded  in  his  play  of  Julius 
Caesar,  when  Cassius  vaunts  himself  upon  his  feat  of  bearing  Caesar 
from  the  Tiber : 

"  And  as  ^neas,  our  great  ancestor, 
Did  from  the  flames  of  Troy  upon  his  shoulders 
The  old  Anchises  bear,  so,  from  the  waves  of  Tiber, 
Did  I  the  tired  Caesar." 

— Julius  C^sar,  Act  i,  Scene  ii. 

Siculus  tells  of  a  father  who  had  three  putative  sons,  and  who 
itoew  that  only  one  of  them  was  his  real  son.  "When  dying,  he 
decreed  that  his  property  should  belong  to  that  child  whom  the 
world  might  acknowledge  as  his  lawful  son.  The  three  sons  pre- 
sented themselves  at  court,  and  each  claimed  the  property.  The 
judge  sought  to  settle  the  case  after  the  faoliion  of  Solomon.  He 
ordered  that  the  body  of  the  father  should  be  attached  to  a  tree, 
and  the  sons,  provided  with  bow  and  arrow,  were  to  shoot  at  the 
body  of  their  father,  with  the  stipulation  that  he  who  pierced  the 
heart,  or  came  nearest  thereunto,  should  be  the  exclusive  heir.  The 
£rst  and  the  second  son  fired  at  the  unnatural  object  and  missed.  But 
when  the  third  was  invited  to  test  his  skill,  he  exclaimed  in  hor- 
ror, "  How  can  I  aim  at  my  father's  heaii,  and  pierce  that  body 
which  gave  me  life  ?  I  do  not  want  the  inheritance  ;  and  I  prefer 
to  die  a  beggar  than  to  cover  myself  with  shame  and  infamy." 


302 

Many  other  instances  of  wliicli  I  have  a  confused  knowledge, 
could  be  cited  from  profane  history,  had  I  but  time  to  make  the 
research  ;  but  I  choose,  rather,  to  refer  to  those  which  are  better 
known  and  more  important,  because  recorded  for  us  in  Sacred 
Writ. 

At  the  outset  we  have  in  Genesis  the  history  of  Joseph  and  his 
brethren.  And  how  utterly  at  variance  is  the  conduct  of  the  young 
ruler  with  that  of  many  modern  sons  after  they  had  been  elevated 
to  places  of  power  and  affluence.  I  love  to  peruse  this  story  of 
Jacob  ;  for  I  think  it  is  one  of  the  most  pathetic  in  the  whole  Bible, 
"With  what  touching,  ^loving  pathos  does  Joseph  ask  upon  his  sec- 
ond interview  with  his  brothers  :  "Is  the  old  man,  your  father,  in 
health,  of  whom  you  told  me  ?  Is  he  yet  living  ?"...."  And  he 
made  haste  because  his  heart  was  moved,  and  tears  gushed  out,  and 
going  into  his  chamber,  he  wept."  And  then  his  message  to  his 
long-lost  father.  "  You  shall  tell  my  father  of  aU  my  glory.  Make 
haste,  and  bring  him  to  me."  In  addition  to  this,  we  are  edified  by 
his  care  and  solicitude  in  providing  for  the  necessities  of  his  father 
after  his  coming  into  Egypt  ;  his  attendance  upon  him  in  sickness ; 
his  invocation  of  Israel's  blessing  for  his  two  sons  ;  and  finally  his 
gieat  grief  at  his  demise,  and  his  exactitude  in  carrying  out  his  father's 
instructions  concerning  the  interment  in  the  chosen  sepulchre.* 

A  scarcely  less  conspicuous  instance  of  filial  devotion  is  presented 
to  us  in  the  case  of  the  younger  Tobias.  He  felt  it  to  be  his  joyous 
duty  at  all  times  to  care  for  his  poor,  blind  father.  At  the  bidding 
of  the  Angel,  he  anoints  with  the  gall  of  the  fish  his  father's  sightless 
eyes,  and  well  does  he  heed  the  injunctions  of  his  dying  parent. 
Hence  it  was  that  he  lived  to  the  green  old  age  of  ninety,  and  his 
people  buried  him  with  joy,  as  one  whom  they  knew  to  be  in  favor 
with  God. 

"We  might  multiply,  almost  indefinitely,  examples  from  the  inspired 
volume,  but  the  conduct  of  Him,  who  is  our  example  and  model  in 
all  things,  is  itself  sufficient  to  teach  us  what  great  store  He  set  by 
the  virtue  of  filial  subjection.  Three  years  He  de'emed  ample  for  the 
sublime  office  of  founding  His  new  economy,  establishing  His  apos- 
tolic college,  and  building  His  indestructible  church  ;  but  thirty 
years  He  required  to  impart  to  us  the  living  lesson  of  subjection 

*  Gen.  xlvii.-xlviii. 


303 

and  obedience  to  His  parents  and  to  our  own.  He  came,  not  to 
annul  the  law,  but  to  perfect  it ;  and  for  that  reason  He  considered 
it  essential  to  ratify  the  ancient  precept  of  the  decalogue,  "  Honor 
thy  father  and  thy  mother,"  by  furnishing  us  the  example  in  His 
own  royal  person.  "He  began  to  practice  before  He  began  to 
teach."     "He  went  down  to  Nazareth  and  was  subject  to  them." 

And  here  I  may  observe,  that,  as  far  as  the  recollection  of  my 
reading  serves  me,  I  have  almost  always  found  that  men  of  genius 
have  cherished  an  abiding  love  and  devotion  towards  their  parents, 
and  especially  for  the  mother  who  gave  them  life.  The  gospel  of 
Christianity,  of  course,  admits  no  distinction  between  the  love  due 
to  the  father,  and  that  which  is  the  right  of  the  mother.  They  have, 
before  God,  equal  claims  upon  the  affection  of  their  children.  And 
yet,  I  make  no  doubt  that  natural  inclination,  or  better,  perhaps, 
natural  instinct,  often  leans  in  favor  of  the  mother  ;  which,  for  my 
part,  I  dare  not  condemn  when  it  is  exercised  without  prejudice  to 
the  prerogatives  of  the  other  parent.  If,  as  physiologists  affirm,  a 
man  really  derives  more  of  his  nature  from  his  mother  than  he  does 
from  his  father,  we  need  not  wonder  at  the  predilection  for  the 
mother.  The  illustrious  Father  Tom  Burke  seems  to  incline  to  my 
opinion,  for  when  Mr.  Froude  taunted  him  on  his  Anglo-Norman 
ancestry,  as  indicated  in  the  name  Burke,  he  replied  :  "  It  is  true 
that  my  name  Burke  is  a  Norman  name,  but  it  is  a  name  that  has 
come  down  to  me  through  seven  hundred  years,  from  ancestors  who 
knew  how  to  bleed  and  die  for  Ireland.  But  thank  God  that  a  man 
gets  more  of  his  nature  from  his  mother  than  from  his  father.  My 
mother  was  an  O'Donoghue,  of  Connemara,  as  Irish  as  Brian  Borr- 
hoimme,  as  proud  as  Lucifer,  and  as  Catholic  as  St.  Peter." 

The  gentle  poet  Cowper  had  a  great  love  for  his  mother,  and,  if 
memory  serves  me,  it  was  he  who  penned  that  tender  poem,  whose 
opening  lines,  as  well  as  I  can  recall,  run  thus  : 

"  Dear  Mother,  when  I  heard  that  thou  wert  dead, 
Say,  wast  thou  conscious  of  the  tears  I  shed  ?  " 

Koger  Brooke  Tawney,  or  Taney,  as  some  have  it,  after  the  pro- 
digious labors  of  the  day  in  the  Supreme  Court,  was  wont  to  visit  the 
grave  of  his  mother,  regularly,  to  pray  for  her  eternal  repose,  and 
hold  communion  with  her  soul. 

Horace  Greeley,  and,  I  think,  Ben.  Franklin,  Napoleon,  and  our  own 


304: 

Washington,  had  a  like  love  and  veneration  for  their  parents.  I 
need  not  refer  to  the  case  of  Dr.  Brownson,  but  I  may  allow  myself 
the  liberty  of  quoting  the  following,  concerning  Washington: 

"  Immediately  after  the  organization  of  the  present  government, 
General  Washington  repaired  to  Fredericksburg  to  pay  his  humble 
duty  to  his  mother,  preparatory  to  his  departure  for  New  York. 
The  son  feelingly  remarked  the  ravages  which  a  torturing  disease  had 
made  upon  the  aged  frame  of  his  mother,  and  thus  addressed  her  : 

"  '  The  people,  madam,  have  been  pleased,  with  flattering  unan- 
imity, to  elect  me  to  the  chief  magistracy  of  the  United  States,  but 
before  I  can  assume  the  functions  of  my  office,  I  have  come  to  bid 
you  an  affectionate  farewell.  So  soon  as  the  public  business,  which 
must  necessarily  be  encountered  in  arranging  a  new  government,  is 
dispatched,  I  shall  hasten  to  Virginia,  and — '  here  the  matron  inter- 
rupted him: — 'You  will  see  me  no  more.  My  great  age,  and  the 
disease  fast  approaching  my  vitals,  warn  me  I  shall  not  be  long  of 
this  world.  I  trust  in  God,  I  am  somewhat  prepared  for  a  better. 
But  go,  George,  fulfill  the  high  destiny  which  heaven  appears  to 
assign  you.  Go,  my  son,  and  that  heaven  and  your  mother's  bless- 
ing will  be  with  you  always.* 

"■  The  President  was  deeply  affected.  His  head  rested  upon  the 
shoulder  of  the  aged  parent,  whose  arm,  feebly,  but  fondly,  en- 
circled his  neck.  That  brow  upon  which  fame  had  wreathed  the 
purest  laurel  virtue  ever  gave  to  created  man,  relaxed  from  its  lofty 
bearing;  that  look  that  could  have  awed  a  Roman  Senate  in  its 
Fabrician  day,  was  bent  in  filial  tenderness  upon  the  time-worn 
features  of  that  venerable  matron.  The  great  man  wept.  A  thousand 
recollections  crowded  upon  his  mind,  as  memory,  retracing  scenes 
long  past,  carried  him  back  to  the  maternal  mansion,  and  the  days  of 
his  youth;  and  then  there  the  centre  of  attraction  was  his  mother,  whose 
care,  instruction,  and  discipline  had  prepared  him  to  reach  the  top- 
most height  of  laudable  ambition;  yet  how  were  his  glories  forgotten, 
while  he  gazed  upon  her,  wasted  by  time  and  malady,  from  whom 
he  must  soon  part,  to  meet  no  more."     No  comment  need  be  made. 

Suffer  me  to  close  this  desultory  essay,  with  one  more  citation, 
which  is,  to  my  mind,  one  of  the  most  beautiful  and  touching  I 
have,  I  think,  ever  had  brought  to  my  notice.  I  cannot,  of  course, 
authenticate  it,  nor  do  I  recall  its  source;  but  I  have  no  good  reason 


305 

for  supposing  that  it  was  not  an  actual  occurrence  at  a  lime  prolific 
of  wonderful  and  brave  deeds. 

"I  remember,"  says  the  writer,  "  once  seeing  an  Irishman  during 
the  war,  shot,  for  being  found  across  the  lines.  They  brought  him 
into  camp,  and  when  asked  why  he  was  beyond  the  lines,  he  said  : 
*  Well,  sirs,  I  was  only  going  to  see  my  dying  mother  for  a  bit,  and 
I  couldn't  get  a  leave  of  absence.  That's  all  there  is  to  it.'  *  But 
you  are  a  deserter.'  *  No,  I  am  not.  I  would  have  gone  to  see  my 
mother,  past  the  mouth  of  a  belching  cannon.  No;  I  am  not  a 
deseiier.'  But  the  court-martial  thought  differently,  and  the  poor 
fellow  was  sentenced  to  be  shot.  When  he  was  brought  to  the 
place  where  he  was  to  meet  his  doom,  his  coffin  was  ready,  and  lay 
on  the  ground  beside  him. 

"  Turning  to  it,  he  gave  a  look  of  scorn,  and  said,  *  You  black 
thing  !  when  you  hold  me,  you'll  have  a  brave  heart  to  bury,  for 
I'm  not  afraid  to  die  for  my  mother.'  *  Kneel,'  said  the  captain  of 
a  squad  of  twenty-four  men,  that  stood  in  front  with  twelve  loaded 
and  twelve  unloaded  muskets.  *  Kneel,  and  be  blindfolded.'  *I 
only  kneel  to  God,'  said  the  plucky  Irishman,  *  and  I  shall  not  be 
blindfolded.  I'll  face  death  with  my  eyes  open.'  Then  the  guards 
forced  him  to  submit  to  the  tying  of  the  handkerchief  over  his  eyes, 
and  stepped  back  to  let  the  men  fire. 

"  'Never,'  shouted  the  prisoner;  and  as  the  muskets  were  levelled, 
he  brushed  aside  the  bandage  with  his  arms,  and  the  next  instant  he 
lay,  a  corpse,  on  the  ground." 

When  we  see  children  faithful  to  the  command  of  the  Creator 
and  to  the  dictates  of  reason  and  nature  respecting  their  parents,  we 
are  instinctively  delighted. 

When  we  behold  them,  with  alacrity  and  thrilling  joy,  seeking  to 
gladden  their  declining  days;  to  sustain  their  feeble  and  tottering 
steps;  to  soothe  them  on  the  couch  of  pain,  and  watch,  with  un- 
wearied care,  their  sleepless  nights;  to  gild,  with  the  gold  of  a  pui-e 
and  unmixed  filial  affection,  their  pathway  to  the  place  of  peace, 
beyond  the  boundaries  of  this  fallen  world,  we  must  exclaim,  how 
beautiful  is  such  love ! — and  surely  long  life,  unbroken  felicity,  and 
heavenly  recompense  are  the  merited  attendants  of  the  noble  and 
virtuous  conduct  of  those  children  who  lovingly  fulfill  the  divine 
precept — Honor  thy  father  and  thy  mother. 
20 


XY. 
EGBERT  ELSMERE. 

Apropos  of  the  wide  currency  of  Kobert  Elsmere,  we  have  been 
persuaded  that  a  word  upon  the  work  may  not  be  inopportune. 

The  optimism  of  those  who  would  frown  down  our  fears  on  the 
score  of  this  novel,  we  should  like,  but  are  unable  to  share.  The 
book,  in  our  opinion,  is  most  pernicious.  Its  danger  lies  in  its  se- 
ductive charm.  It  is  intended  to  accomplish  a  fell  purpose.  The 
authoress  wears  no  mask,  but  at  the  outset  reveals  her  "plan  of 
campaign."  Her  diction  is  admirable.  It  is  chaste,  terse,  and 
vigorous;  and,  more  than  all,  free  and  natural.  Fire,  pathos,  re- 
pose, energy,  are  alike  expressed  with  marvellous  felicity  of  lan- 
guage, according  to  the  exigencies  of  the  occasion. 

Despite  all  this,  to  the  enlightened  Christian  it  is  pouring  perfume 
on  the  violet  to  say  that  she  has  carved  out  a  very  poor  case  for 
social  and  philosophical  Theism  as  against  Christianity.  But  to  the 
less  informed,  whose  range  of  vision  may  not  see  beyond  the  amia- 
bility, sincerity,  and  self-denying  devotion  of  Elsmere,  whose  vir- 
tues were  the  fruit  of  his  own  gospel,  the  challenge  to  Christianity 
might  seem  more  successful.  Elsmere  died  for  his  idea,  but  so 
have  myriads  of  fanatics  from  the  beginniug  until  now.  But  what 
was  it  all  woiih  ?  In  what  was  he  better,  more  useful,  or  success- 
ful, as  drudge  in  London,  tlian  as  Kector  of  MureweU  ? 

Of  the  plot,  we  pronounce  nothing — there  is  really  none. 

Eespecting  the  numerous  characters  introduced,  it  is  of  little  ac- 
count to  speak;  except  that  many  of  them  make  more  for  Christian- 
ity than  against  it.  Langham,  the  morbid  misanthrope;  the  cold, 
heartless  recluse;  the  pessimistic  day-dreamer,  is  an  odd  and  weird 
character;  but,  to  be  sure,  before  he  reached  that  pitch  of  pessim- 
ism, he  began  to  cut  loose  from  the  old  moorings,  to  strip  off  the 


#* 


307 

"ancient  formulae ";  to  pull  down  the  old  framework  of  historical  en- 
vironment which  surrounded  the  story  of  Jesus.  The  infidel  process 
is  ever  the  same.  Koger  Wendover,  too,  must  have  gone  through 
the  same  destructive  and  levelling  operation,  ere  he  began  to  look 
upon  all  religion  as  mockery  and  all  worship  as  fanatical  enthusiasm. 
Both  the  squire  and  Langham  are  the  ultimate  product  of  the  ration- 
alism which  Grey  uttered  on  his  death-bed,  when  he  said:  "There 
is  nothing  certain  but  God — but  what  the  intellect  can  grasp." 
Strange  anachronism  and  contradiction;  for  then  God  is  not  certain; 
since  to  grasp  God  is  above  the  mind  of  any  man.  Nor  would  Els- 
mere,  had  he  lived,  have  stopped  with  his  religion  of  humanity.  He 
would  end  in  the  scepticism,  cynicism,  and  blank  negation  of  his  two 
mentors,  who,  the  lay-preacher  "  Grey  aside,  were  Langham  and 
Wendover. 

But  what  is  the  ideal  which  the  author  gives  us  to  enrapture  the 
mind,  to  captivate  the  heart,  to  fire  the  imagination,  and  to  rouse  all 
the  faculties  into  action  ?  It  is  a  nude  idea.  It  is  an  unthinkable 
abstraction. 

The  religion  of  humanity  is  now  the  correct  cult  The  dignity  of 
human  nature  is  now  preached  as  the  modern  idolatry,  and  it  has 
come  at  last  to  this,  as  a  critic  once  said  of  Dr.  Channing,  that  we 
make  God  a  very  little  man,  and  man  a  great  god.  Such  has  been 
the  course  of  all  our  soidisant  reformers,  of  whatever  time  or  clime. 
They  proclaim  the  infallible  voice  of  the  people  as  the  voice  of  God, 
forgetting  that  no  one  can  give  what  he  has  not  got,  and  that  no 
numbers  of  fallible  factors  can  give  an  infallible  product.  If  Brown, 
Jones,  and  Robinson  are  individually  liable  to  err,  they  are  con- 
jointly exposed  to  the  same  proneness  to  errancy.  But  one  formid- 
able obstacle  impedes  the  reformer's  way.  It  is  the  religion  of 
Christ,  and  its  incompatible  character  with  the  religion  of  human- 
ity, as  it  is  prated  of  and  preached  about.  For  Christ  is  both  human 
and  divine.  Christ  is  God,  and  His  teachings  and  revelations  are 
the  words  of  God.  Therefore,  to  preach  the  humanitarian  gospel  it 
is  necessary  to  overthrow  the  religion  of  Christ,  and  to  eliminate  the 
divine  element  from  Christianity.  And  this  it  is,  precisely,  Mrs. 
Ward  set  her  hero  to  do  before  she  put  him  to  the  task  of  slaving 
out  his  life  for  the  strays  and  waifs  of  humanit3\  And  what  does 
she  give  us  ?     A  Christless  Christianity,  or  a  contradiction  in  terms. 


308 

A  religion  of  the  feelings,  the  passions,  the  instincts,  the  emotions, 
and  all  that  congeries  of  blind  and  violent  forces  inherent  in  man's 
unruly  and  sentimental  nature.  She  then  coats  all  this  with  a  thin 
veneering  of  pathos  and  sentiment,  which  is  falsely  esteemed  re- 
ligion. At  best,  it  is  but  natural  benevolence.  And  upon  what  is  it 
all  based  ?  What  is  its  foundation  and  strong  support  ?  What  its 
motive  and  directing  power  ?  Why,  ye  shades  of  Plato  and  Aris- 
totle, it  is  a  figment  of  the  fancy;  it  is  a  naked  idea;  and  upon  the 
altar  of  this  idea,  Elsmere  immolates  himself;  an  uncomx^laining  vic- 
tim for  poor,  ignorant,  suffering  humanity.  Nay,  it  is  not  even  an 
idea;  it  is  a  faint  memory,  a  reminiscence,  the  recollection  of  a  man 
— a  great  man,  but  only  a  man,  and  nothing  more — the  mere  man, 
Jesus. 

Now,  either  God  made  a  revelation,  or  He  did  not.  If  the  latter, 
then  by  what  right  does  Elsmere  assume  to  set  up  a  church  or 
found  a  religion  of  any  kind  ?  There  is  no  right  without  authority, 
and  where  is  his  authority  ?  Nor  is  it  any  more  to  the  purpose  to 
fall  back  upon  the  "  this-do-in-remembrance-of-me "  theory;  for 
Jesus,  as  man,  and  man  only,  had  no  more  authority  than  Elsmere. 

But  if  God  did  make  a  revelation,  it  cannot  be  a  matter  of  in- 
difference to  Him  or  to  us  whether  we  reject  or  follow  it.  And  if 
we  are  to  follow  it,  we  are  not  free  to  strip  it  of  its  forms,  nay,  to 
expunge  its  very  essence,  and  to  set  up,  as  the  idol  of  our  worship, 
the  fantastic  creations  of  a  madcap  fancy.  That  revelation  presents 
Christ  to  us  as  God,  the  eternal  Son  of  God,  consubstantial  with  the 
Father  and  equal  to  Him  in  all  things.  Yes;  Christ  is  God,  or  He 
is  the  prince  of  impostors.  Oh,  why  did  the  author  so  flippantly 
pass  by  the  inevitable  alternative,  which  she  mentioned  only  to  scoff 
at,  but  not  to  refute  ?  Pertransivit  benefaciendo,  He  went  about  doing 
good,  binding  up  the  broken  heart,  comforting  the  fatherless  and 
the  widow,  healing  the  sick  and  consoling  the  poor,  the  outcast,  and 
the  despised, — but  all  the  time  He  went  as  God.  He  proclaimed 
Himself  to  be  God,  and  He  proved  Himself  to  be  God.  If  we  are 
to  toil  for  humanity,  if  we  are  to  follow  in  His  footsteps,  to  cHng  to 
His  memory — and  sweet  and  precious  memory  it  is — we  must  re- 
member Him,  not  as  man  merely,  but  as  the  God  He  called  and 
knew  Himself  to  be.  Nor  can  we  labor  to  any  effect  by  other  means, 
for  there  is  no  other  name  under  heaven  whereby  we  may  be  saved. 


309 

Elsmere  died  a  slave  to  duty.  What  is  duty  ?  Wliat  is  it  but 
what  God  commands;  and  it  is  duty  because  He  has  commanded  it; 
and  He  has  commanded  us  to  hear  the  teachings  of  His  beloved  Son, 
not  only  when  the  Son  tells  us  to  give  the  cup  of  cold  water  in  His 
name,  but  also  when  He  allows  it  to  be  made  known  that  He  is  the 
Christ,  the  Son  of  the  living  God.  Yes,  Mrs.  Ward:  either  Jesus 
Christ,  the  Son  of  the  Hving  and  true  God,  or  a  monumental  mounte- 
bank and  blatant  impostor;  either  Christianity  or  nothing,  as  you 
say  youi'self,  without  showing  any  sanction  for  your  sickly  substi- 
tute. 

The  great  mistake  of  Mrs.  Ward  lies  in  her  taking  for  granted 
that  man  has  a  natural  destiny.  Man  has  no  natural  destiny.  When 
God  fii*st  fashioned  man.  He  destined  him  for  a  supernatui'al  end, 
and  this  end  man  could  neither  know  nor  attain  aside  from  reve- 
lation. Therefore,  in  rejecting  revelation  for  absolute  Theism,  Mrs. 
Ward  can  find  no  higher  destiny  for  man  than  nature  and  the  re- 
ligion of  humanity  can  suggest.  But  O,  "  if  eai*th  be  all  and  heaven 
nothing,  what  thrice-mocked  fools  are  we." 

Without  the  knowledge  of  this  supernatural  ead,  no  social  problem 
is  soluble.  For  humanity  we  toil  in  vain.  We  can  never  gain  the 
goal,  and  the  fruit  of  all  our  labor  is  whipped  cream. 

Besides,  Elsmere  originates  his  own  religion;  it  is,  therefore, 
human,  natural;  and  how  can  it  direct  men  to  a  supematui-al  end 
above  the  realm  of  reason  and  the  reach  of  nature  ?  No  being  can 
outwork  its  capacity.  The  means  must  be  adequate  to  the  attain- 
ment of  the  end.  And  all  his  means  are  maps,  and  charts,  and 
fairy  tales,  and  Dickens,  and  Shakespeare,  and  reading-rooms  and 
clubs,  and  a  poor,  disfigured,  human  Christ, — an  impostor  and  a 
cheat, — a  ludibrium  and  a  mockery — an  airy  abstraction, — a  cipher, 
a  nonentity.     But  where  is  gi'ace  and  the  God  that  worketh  in  us? 

The  novel  has  many  other  faults  which  might  be  noticed. 

We  hate  the  didactic  novel.  It  is  an  aesthetic  heresy.  From  an 
aesthetic  point  of  view  it  is  incongruous  to  load  a  didactic  essay  on 
religion  with  a  strange  jumble  of  love  intrigues  and  plottings.  The 
primary  end  of  the  novel  is  to  please  and  move;  it  appeals  to  the 
emotions,  the  imagination,  and  the  fancy;  and,  though  written  in 
prose,  it  is  really  a  poem.  But  the  essay,  and  especially  the  religious 
essay,  has  a  far  different  purpose.     Its  aim  is  to  convince;  it  appeals 


310 

to  tlie  mind  and  the  intellect,  and  has  nothing  in  common  with  the 
novel. 

But  because  it  is  a  novel,  therein  lies  the  danger;  and  because  it 
preaches  the  religion  of  humanitarianism,  so  flattering  to  the  senti- 
mental side  of  our  nature,  it  is  highly  dangerous. 

In  one  word,  the  book  should  not  cumber  a  table  in  the  drawing- 
room  of  any  Christian  family. 


XVI. 
GEORGE  BANCROFT'S  NEW  HISTORY. 

Among  the  most  illustrious  of  living  Americans,  the  venerable  his- 
torian, George  Bancroft,  stands  in  no  secondary  station.  His  fame 
is  secure  forever.  The  old-time  taunt  of  transatlantic  scholars  that 
America  has  nothing  called  history,  has  received  its  refutation;  and 
even  if  it  had  not,  no  European  scoffer  shaU  ever  again  dare  to 
hazard  the  assertion  that  the  new  world  of  Columbus  cannot  claim 
even  one  genuine  historian.  But  the  work  of  Bancroft  as  it  has  con- 
futed the  calumnies  of  the  past,  will  prove  to  the  future  that 
America  has  not  only  a  history  of  which  she  may  be  proud,  but  like- 
wise a  historian  justly  competent  to  chronicle  the  history  of  his 
country  and  enshrine  her  deeds  in  the  pages  of  a  work  that  shall  last 
for  all  time. 

The  History  of  the  United  States  is  an  evidence  of  the  might  of 
genius  allied  to  the  power  of  industry  and  research.  It  is  more:  it 
is  a  glorious  triumph  of  truth  over  all  the  arts  of  error  and  of  false- 
hood. It  unmasks  misrepresentation,  removes  prejudice  and  big- 
otry, and  shows  fortlf  to  America  and  to  the  world,  the  just  claim  of 
Catholics  to  be  considered  as  the  champions,  as  well  as  the  earliest 
promoters,  of  civil  and  rehgious  liberty  in  this  country. 

George  Bancroft  has  always  commanded  the  esteem  and  admira- 
tion of  Catholic  scholars.  They  have  admired  his  genius  and  praised 
his  impartiality.  His  polished  diction,  his  plain  but  stately  phrase, 
his  grasp  of  facts,  and  his  penetrating  philosophy,  leavening  and 
vivifying  the  whole  into  one  magnificent  mosaic  of  historic  handi- 
craft— all  have  won  him  a  reno\vn  which  none  respect  and  applaud 
more  than  the  Catholics  of  the  United  States.  And  if  they  have 
nothing  but  admiration  for  his  transcendent  gifts  of  genius,  they 


312 

have  equally  nothing  but  love  for  his  sterling  qualities  as  a  man  and 
as  a  historian. 

Tnith,  candor,  and  sincerity  are  necessary  for  him  who  would 
record  the  history  of  any  people  or  of  any  time.  Concurring,  as  we 
do,  and  must,  with  Cicero,  that  history  is  but  the  witness  of  truth, 
we  must  hold  it  as  an  unassailable  position,  that  no  man,  destitute 
of  the  qualities  just  indicated,  though  he  be  a  giant  in  genius  and  a 
prodigy  of  learning,  is  qualified  or  worthy  to  wield  a  pen  or  display 
his  powers  in  the  domain  of  historic  record  and  research.  History 
is  not  fiction;  it  has  no  relation  to  romance,  and  Macaulay's  capital 
sin  consisted  in  ignoring  this  fact.  Nor  is  it  yet  a  mere  narration 
of  facts  which,  without  correlation,  comparison,  and  the  explication 
of  causality  and  effect,  are,  in  themselves,  void  of  vigor  and  life,  in- 
terest and  instruction.  The  excellence  of  Bancroft,  which  puts  him 
on  an  eminence  far  above  the  average  of  American  historians,  shines 
forth  in  this,  that  he  furnishes  us  the  facts  in  the  clearness  of  reality 
and  truth,  at  the  same  time  that  he  shows  their  causes  and  relations, 
with  marvellous  lucidity,  and  yet  invests  his  narration  with  a 
singular  charm  of  language  and  of  diction. 

And  all  this  is  possible,  only  because  of  his  adherence  to  truth. 
Catholics  felt  a  just  pride  in  him,  for  as  the  witness  of  the  truth,  he 
was  of  necessity  their  champion.  As  the  personification  of  impar- 
tiality, he  could  not  but  uphold  their  claims  and  render  the  testi- 
mony of  justice  to  the  honorable  part  they  bore  in  the  building  of 
the  great  Eepublic.  But  lo !  Such  is  Bancroft  as  he  was  ;  Bancroft 
as  he  is,  we  cannot  fathom.  Once  we  idolized  him  as  our  friend  ; 
now  it  seems  we  must  forget  him  as  our  foe.  But  "  whence  this 
altered  shape"?  What  metamorphosis  is  here?  Is  the  life  of 
George  Bancroft  designed  to  supply  another  instance  of  the  power 
of  prejudice  to  ultimately  prevail  over  a  mind  naturally  inclined  to 
truth  ?  Can  it  be  that  maturity  of  years  has  only  warped  the  judg- 
ment, and  the  light  of  larger  experience  but  blinded  the  intellectual 
eyes  of  a  massive  mind  ? 

How  this  may  be,  we  cannot  tell ;  but  one  thing  is  certain  : — that 
a  change  has  come,  whatever  the  agency  by  which  it  has  been 
wrought.     And  this  change  counts  most  against  Catholics. 

Mr.  Bancroft's  work,  the  History  of  the  United  States,  upon 
which  is  founded  the  historian's  claim  to  fame,  has  had  desei-vedly 


313 

an  unprecedented  sale,  both  at  home  and  abroad.  More  than 
twenty-five  editions  have  been  put  forth  from  the  press,  and  the 
work  has  been  translated  into  many  European  languages. 

To  meet  the  growing  demand  for  so  popular  a  book,  Mr.  Bancroft 
issued  a  recent  edition  wherein  the  ten  volumes  of  the  old  edition 
are  compressed  into  six,  with  a  view,  Ave  suppose,  to  cheapness  and 
portability.  To  accomplish  this  result  with  sufficient  satisfaction,  it 
was  found  necessary  to  omit  much  of  the  matter  in  the  early  editions, 
and  most  prominent  of  all,  because  most  obvious,  in  the  process  of 
expurgation,  is  the  striking  out  of  all  marginal  notes  and  reference 
to  authorities. 

It  is  insufferably  hard  upon  Catholics  that  most  of  the  alterations 
should  concern  them,  and  that,  too,  most  disagreeably  and  unfavor- 
ably. We  miss  the  eloquent  tribute  to  Lord  Calvert  and  his  little 
colony  in  Maryland,  that  graced  the  pages  of  the  earlier  works.  We 
are  no  longer  told  that  "  Calvert  deserves  to  be  ranked  among  the 
most  wise  and  benevolent  law-givers  of  all  ages  ;  that  he  was  the 
first  to  place  the  establishment  of  popular  institutions  with  the  en- 
joyment of  liberty  of  conscience  ;  that  the  Asylum  of  the  Papists 
was  the  spot,  where,  in  a  remote  corner  of  the  world,  on  the  banks 
of  rivers,  which,  as  yet,  had  hardly  been  explored,  the  mild  forbear- 
ance of  a  proprietary  adopted  religious  freedom  as  the  basis  of  the 
State  ;  that  there  the  early  star  of  religious  liberty  appeared  as  the 
harbinger  of  day ;  that  there  the  Roman  Catholics,  who  were 
persecuted  by  the  laws  of  England,  were  sure  to  find  a  peaceful 
asylum  in  the  quiet  harbors  of  the  Chesapeake  ;  and  that  there,  too, 
Protestants  were  sheltered  from  Protestant  intolerance."  These 
generous  words  are  withheld  from  the  new  edition. 

Gone,  too,  in  great  part,  is  the  testimony  of  praise  and  admiration 
for  the  sublime  heroism  and  self-sacrifice  of  the  first  Catholic  mis- 
sionaries in  America.  Mr.  Bancroft  has  always  seemed,  not  merely 
a  willing  witness,  but  a  warm  and  enthusiastic  lover  and  admirer  of 
the  deathless  deeds  of  men  who  renounced  all  and  dared  everything, 
whether  toil  or  privation,  the  fury  of  the  beasts  of  the  forest,  or  the 
more  savage  violence  of  savage  men,  that  they  might  claim  our 
country  for  Christ,  and  gain  a  virgin  continent  to  God.  The  stake, 
the  scalping-knife,  the  deadly  darts  of  poisoned  arrows,  had  no  ter- 
rors for  these  soldiers  of  the  Cross.  For  death  itself  in  any  form 
they  had  no  dread,  but  regarded  it  as  their  deliverer  and  rewarder. 


314 

They  shall  be  ranked  among  the  noblest  heroes  that  history  can 
ever  name.  Their  memory  is  immortal,  as  their  life  was  sublime, 
and  their  end  crowned  with  glory.  No  man  has  extolled  their 
exploits  with  a  more  glowing  pen  or  more  ardent  praise,  than 
he  whom  we  were  wont  to  regard  as  the  first  of  living  historians, 
— the  erudite,  the  accomplished,  and  the  chivalrous  Bancroft.  But 
why  does  he  suppress  now  that  praise  which  once  he  gave  with- 
out stint  ?  Why  does  he  entomb  in  the  grave  of  silence  the  names 
and  deeds  and  memories  which  he  himself,  of  all  men,  seemed 
most  eager  to  make,  by  the  magic  of  his  mind,  and  the  power 
of  his  pen,  breathe,  and  act,  and  live  forever  in  the  memory  of 
men?  Is  he  to  be  the  robber  of  that  renown  which  he  indeed 
did  not  give,  but  which  he  robed  with  brighter  lustre,  and 
clothed  with  more  gorgeous  glory  ?  Is  silence  now  to  be  con- 
strued with  contempt?  Is  suppression  the  same  thing  as  rejection, 
and  is  omission  to  be  accounted  repudiation  ?  We  do  not  know. 
One  thing  has  the  color  of  suspicion.  Mr.  Bancroft  has  expunged 
from  his  new  editions  all  his  annotations  and  citations  of  authority 
which  appeared  in  his  former  publications.  If  he  has  changed  his 
views  with  respect  to  Catholics  and  the  pai-t  they  have  played  in  the 
history  of  this  country,  we  are  all  attention  to  know  the  fact.  But 
we  have  the  right  to  know  the  groundwork  of  this  change.  We 
have  a  right  to  know  on  what  evidence  it  rests.  If  he  has  unveiled 
any  new  data  from  the  archives  of  the  past,  let  him  give  them  to 
the  light,  so  that  "  he  who  runs  may  read."  But  we  believe  he  has 
not ;  we  are  sure  he  cannot.  Are  we  to  reject  the  fruit  of  forty 
years'  expeiience  and  assiduous  study  for  the  hasty  doings  of  a  day  ? 
Are  we  to  spurn  the  labors  of  a  strong  and  vigorous  mind  for  the 
outcome  of  faculties  worn  by  age  and  enfeebled  by  long  and  inces- 
sant toil  ?  Does  George  Bancroft  condemn  himself  out  of  his  own 
mouth  ?  Speak,  Mr.  Bancroft,  and  tell  us  what  these  suppressions 
mean  ?  To  us  they  are  inexplicable  ;  we  fail  to  comprehend  them. 
We  have  always  looked  upon  you  as  a  lover  of  justice,  and  the 
prince  of  impartial  historians.  We  cannot  harbor  the  harsh  reflec- 
tion that  you  purpose  misrepresenting  that  religion  which  so  long 
you.  have  defended  by  your  fidelity  to  truth,  and  of  which  some  of 
your  own  children  are  honored  members  and  devoted  adherents. 

We  caution  Catholics  to  eschew  the  new  editions  of  Mr.  Bancroft's 
history  and,  if  possible,  to  procure  one  pubhshed  prior  to  1875. 


XYII. 
HISTORICAL  SKETCH  OF  ST.   PATRICK.^ 

The  precise  period  of  the  introduction  of  Cliristianity  into  Ire- 
land is  very  problematical.  To  St.  Patrick  indisputably  belongs  the 
revered  and  honored  title  of  Apostle  of  Ireland,  forasmuch  as  the 
conversion  of  the  nation  as  a  whole  is  the  work  of  his  heaven-in- 
spired and  directed  labors.  But  whether,  anterior  to  the  time  of 
the  great  Apostle,  the  light  of  the  Gospel  and  the  blessed  message 
of  salvation  had,  to  any  extent,  Ughted  up  the  ancient  Isle,  is,  and  has 
been,  the  cause  of  no  inconsiderable  controversy  among  the  learned. 
That  some  straggling  rays  of  the  genial  sun  of  Christianity  had 
penetrated,  even  considerably  before  Patrick's  time,  the  pagan  dark- 
ness which  enshrouded  the  land  of  our  forefathers,  is  generally  con- 
ceded. The  obscurity  which  envelopes  this  subject  need  occasion 
no  surprise  when  we  reflect  that  a  similar  condition  of  doubt  and 
perplexity  affects  the  ecclesiastical  history  of  Spain  and  Gaul  and 
Britain.  Much  more,  then,  is  this  to  be  expected  in  relation  to  a 
country  which  was  the  Ultima  Thule,  the  uttermost  point  of  the 
then  civilized  world;  a  country  over  whose  green  fields  the  proud 
Roman  eagles  had  never  soared,  and  into  which  had  never  pen- 
etrated the  arms  of  the  Roman  Empire;  an  Empire,  which,  as  St. 
Leo  tells  us,  had  been  raised  up  by  God  for  the  purpose  of  con- 
tributing to  the  more  easy  diffusion  of  the  light  of  the  Gospel  of 
Jesus  Christ. 

TertuUian  informs  us  that  the  name  of  Christ  reigned,  even  in  his 
time,  in  places  inhabited  by  Britons,  and  until  then,  unexplored  by 
the  Romans.  Eusebius  carries  us  yet  farther  back;  and  Nicepho- 
rus,  in  his  account  of  the  missionary  labors  of  the  Apostles,  says  that 

*  The  facts  herein  recorded  are  taken  chiefly  from  Dr.  Lanigan's  celebrated 
work,  now,  unhappily,  out  of  print. 


316 

some  of  them  had  proceeded  beyond  the  ocean  to  the  Islands,  which 
are  called  British.  The  learned  Stillingfleet  labors  hard  to  show  that 
St.  Paul  preached  in  Britain;  and  others,  quoted  by  Usher,  pretend 
that  St.  James  the  Elder  announced  the  Christian  faith  in  Ireland; 
while  one  Aristobulus,  the  brother  of  St.  Barnabas,  with  twelve  com- 
panions, preached  to  the  Irish  people  in  the  Apostolic  age. 

It  is,  however,  no  sin  of  historical  scepticism  for  us  to  regard 
these  allegations  as  fabulous  and  erroneous;  for  every  student  of 
Irish  history  is  conversant  with  the  important  and  significant  fact 
that  the  early  annalists  and  writers  of  the  Irish  people  utterly  ignore 
these  traditions,  and  put  forward  no  claim  for  their  country  to  the 
honor  of  ever  having  been  visited  by  the  Apostles  or  their  immedi- 
*ate  disciples. 

Descending  from  the  days  of  the  Apostles,  we  find  mention  of  the 
renowned  St.  Cataldus,  Bishop  of  Tarentum,  as  teacher  of  the 
school  of  Lismore  in  Italy;  of  St.  Firminus,  Bishop  of  Amiens,  who 
suffered  martyrdom  in  the  persecution  of  Diocletian;  of  St.  Eliphius 
and  his  brother,  Eucharius,  and  their  three  sisters,  who  were  mar- 
tyred in  the  days  of  Julian  the  Apostate,  at  Toul;  all  of  whom  it  is 
asserted  were  from  Ireland.  But  enough  of  this  conjectural  and 
suspicious  history. 

It  is  universally  admitted  that  there  were  Christian  congi-egations 
in  Ireland  before  Palladius  had  been  commissioned,  by  Pope  Celes- 
tine,  in  431,  to  preach  to  the  Irish  people;  and  in  lieu  of  other  evi- 
dence, the  testimony  of  St.  Prosper  should  suffice,  who  says  that 
Palladius  was  sent  to  the  Scots  believing  in  Christ,  or,  to  the  Scots 
who  were  living  in  Ireland;  and  it  is  well  known  that  Scotia  Major, 
or  Scotland  proper,  was  then  the  most  common  name  for  Ireland. 
But  how,  or  by  whom,  the  Christian  faith  was  first  introduced  into 
Ireland,  it  is  impossible  to  determine.  The  only  point  I  would  here 
make  is,  that  if  Palladius  was  sent  ad  Scotos  in  Christum  credentes, 
then  there  were  some  Christians  in  an  Ireland  afterwards  so  famed 
for  its  faith  even  before  the  advent  of  Palladius,  and  therefore  be- 
fore St.  Patrick  had,  as  a  missioner,  set  foot  upon  her  emerald 
shores. 

The  person  first  chosen  for  the  great  work  of  converting  Ireland 
to  Christianity  was  Palladius,  a  deacon  of  the  Roman  Church,  who 
had  already  acquired  distinction  by  his  exertions  to  deliver  Britain 


317 

from  the  infection  of  the  Pelagian  heresy.  "  Ad  Scotos  in  Christum 
credentes  ordinatus  a  Papa  Celestino  Palladius  piimo  Episcopus 
mittetur."  Subsequent  to  his  consecration,  he  embarked  for  Ireland 
with  some  missionaries,  and  landed  probably  where  Wexford  now 
stands,  in  the  territory  of  which  Nathi,  the  son  of  Garchon,  was 
then  sovereign.  His  early  operations  were  crowned  with  success. 
He  erected  three  chui'ches,  in  one  of  which  he  deposited  the  Sacred 
Books,  and  the  rehcs  of  SS.  Peter  and  Paul,  and  baptized  many  in 
Christ.  But  the  marked  success  of  his  labors  alarmed  the  sticklers 
for  polytheism,  and  he  was  denounced  to  the  king  as  a  dangerous 
innovator,  and  by  reason  of  this  opposition  he  was  constrained  to 
quit  the  country,  leaving  behind  some  faithful  followers  to  continue 
to  propagate  the  Gospel. 

The  work  thus  courageously,  if  not  auspiciously,  begun,  was  to 
find  its  crown  and  consummation  in  the  person  and  labors  of  one 
whom  God  raised  up  for  so  sublime  and  grand  a  destiny.  That 
man  was  St.  Patrick.  That  man  was  he  whose  name  to-day  is  re- 
vered and  honored  by  30,000,000  of  the  Celtic  race  diffused  through 
every  quarter  of  the  habitable  globe,  and  who  breathe  blessings 
upon  his  name,  invoke  his  aid,  and  reverence  him  as  their  spiritual 
father  in  Christ  Jesus  long  since  released  from  his  labors,  triumphant 
with  Chi'ist,  reigning  with  the  Saints  in  glory,  and  still  looking 
with  earnest  interest  and  fond  affection  upon  the  hopes  and  aspira- 
tions, the  career  and  destiny  of  those  multitudinous  children  whom 
he  begot  into  salvation  by  the  zeal  of  his  Apostolate  on  earth. 

Not  to  dwell  further  on  unlearned  conjectui*es  or  wild  corollaries, 
it  is  enough  to  say  that  there  is  absolutely  no  authority  for  the  as- 
sertion of  Dr.  Ledwich  that  the  first  preachers  of  Christianity  in 
Ireland  were  Britons,  rather  than  persons  from  Gaul,  Spain,  or  any 
other  country  that  carried  on  a  trade  with  Ireland.  That  a  foreign 
trade  existed  between  Ireland  and  other  countries  as  far  back  as 
the  time  of  Tacitus,  the  great  Koman  historian,  is  clear  from  the  fact 
of  his  telling  us  that  the  harbors  of  Ireland  were  better  known  to 
commercial  people  than  those  of  Great  Britain.  "Melius  aditus 
portusque  per  commercia  et  negotiationes  cogniti."  (Vita  Juli  Agric.) 
It  is  well  known  that  communication  was  maintained  between  Spain 
and  Ireland  after  the  Milesian  colony  had  come  from  GaUcia,  Spain, 
and  it  appears,  from  certain  remains  of  antiquity,  that  it  was  some- 


318 

times  visited  by  traders  from  Carthage  and  even  remoter  parts  of 
Africa,  as  well,  probably,  from  more  eastern  countries.  In  these 
predatory  excursions  upon  the  coast  of  Britain,  the  Irish  may  have 
carried  away  some  Christian  slaves,  or  even  priests,  who  did  not 
neglect  the  opportunity  of  teaching  their  masters. 

The  great  work  of  the  general  conversion  of  the  people  of  Ireland 
was  reserved  by  Almighty  God  for  the  ministry  of  St.  Patrick,  ac- 
cording to  the  Irish  adage,  that  not  to  Palladius,  but  to  Patrick,  did 
God  grant  the  conversion  of  Ireland.  And  yet,  despite  this  adage, 
and  the  unanimous  testimony  of  the  traditions  of  the  country,  the 
universal  consent  of  all  ancient  writers  who  have  touched  upon  the 
subject,  together  with  the  extraordinary  reputation  enjoyed  by  the 
celebrated  Saint  throughout  all  Christendom,  to  Dr.  Ledwich,  author 
of  the  work  entitled  "  The  Antiquities  of  Ireland,"  it  remains  to  usher 
into  the  world  the  audacious  paradox,  as  Dr.  Lanigan  calls  it,  which 
makes  St.  Patrick  a  myth,  contests  the  fact  of  his  existence,  and 
thus  perpetrates  a  daring  outrage  on  learning  and  truth.  The  argu- 
ments put  forward  by  this  bold,  historical  buccaneer,  are  not  worth  the 
pains  of  inquiring  into,  for  they  are  of  very  small  consequence;  and 
to  a  man  not  only  miserably  deficient  in  understanding,  but  blinded 
by  bigotry,  and  petrified  by  prejudice,  it  was  indeed  impossible  to 
tell  the  truth,  and  whether  he  makes  St.  Patrick  a  real  or  ideal  person- 
age, will  not  seriously  alter  the  established  facts  of  universal  history. 
Against  this  pitiful  historian,  it  is  more  than  enough  to  put  the 
testimony  of  St.  Prosper,  Bede,  Usher,  Jocelin,  and  all  others,  to 
show  that  his  name  is  mentioned,  and  his  feast  fixed  for  the  17th  of 
March  in  all  the  breviaries  and  martyrologies  of  the  time,  together 
with  the  fact  that  many  memoirs  have  been  written  and  examined  by 
the  numerous  critics,  who,  with  indefatigable  industry,  collected  and 
arranged  a  multitude  of  proofs  upon  the  subject,  and  never  enter- 
tained a  doubt  of  our  Saint's  existence;  which  belief  finds  irrefrag- 
able confirmation  in  the  number  of  places  distinguished  by  his 
name,  and  the  various  churches  erected  in  his  honor,  in  Ireland, 
Scotland,  Britain,  and  other  parts  of  Europe. 

The  existence  of  St.  Patrick  was  denied  for  the  purpose  of  show- 
ing that  the  Church  of  Ireland,  in  its  commencement,  had  no  con- 
nection with  the  Church  of  Home,  and  for  the  same  reason,  his  acts 
have  been  condemned  as  forgeries.     For  the  existence  of  the  Saint, 


319 

authorities  the  most  unequivocal  can  be  produced,  both  foreign  and 
domestic,  which  the  most  sceptical  cannot  deny  to  be  convincing;  and 
for  the  unity  between  the  Church  of  Ireland  and  that  of  the  Church 
of  Rome,  it  is  shown  that  the  doctrine  and  the  discipline  of  Jesus 
Christ  has  run  on  in  an  uninterrupted  coiu'se  of  ages  without  any 
substantial  deviation  from  the  rules  and  practices  of  the  Catholic 
Church  which  acknowledges  the  See  of  Rome  and  the  Pope  as  its 
visible  head. 

Having  said  this  much  of  the  existence  of  St.  Patrick,  let  us  now 
inquire  what  was  the  land  of  his  birth.  There  is  a  celebrated  distich 
about  the  poet  Homer  which  only  faintly  lingers  in  my  memory,  but 
it  runs  something  like  this: 

"  Full  seven  cities  claimed  a  Homer  dead, 
Through  which  the  living  poet  begged  his  bread." 

Perhaps  it  was  so  with  Patrick, — but  however  this  may  be,  it  would 
be  a  waste  of  time  to  examine  all  the  opinions  set  afloat  concerning 
our  Saint's  nationality,  such  as  his  having  been  born  in  Cornwall,  in 
Pembrokeshire,  in  Wales,  in  Italy,  or  still  strangest  of  all,  in  Ireland 
itself. 

The  prevalent  opinion,  since  the  time  of  Usher  and  Colgan,  has 
been  that  he  was  bom  at  Kilpatrick  in  N.  Britain,  not  far  from 
the  Dun,  or  Dumbarton,  or  as  Butler  has  it  in  his  lives  of  the 
Saints,  near  the  city  of  Glasgow,  on  the  river  Clyde,  in  Scotland. 

But  Usher  well  knew  that  there  was  another  opinion  stated  by  O'Sul- 
livan,  and  Dempter,  and  David  Rothe,  which  his  partiality  for  South 
Britain  would  not  permit  him  to  discuss,  and  it  is  founded  upon  the 
impregnable  testimony  of  St.  Patrick's  own  confession,  his  letter  to 
the  prince  Coroticus;  the  hymn  or  metrical  sketch  of  his  life  by 
Fiech;  and  the  life  of  St.  Patrick  by  Probus,  who  was  chief  lectui'er 
in  the  school  of  Slane,  and  was  burned  to  death  in  the  tower  of  that 
place  about  950. 

It  is  curious  to  note  on  what  slender  grounds  is  founded  the 
opinion  to  which  the  great  authority  of  Usher  gives  such  a  color  of 
plausibility.  One  of  the  commentators  or  scholiasts  of  Fiech's  met- 
rical sketch  says,  as  Fiech  himself  in  reality  does,  that  St.  Patrick 
was  born  at  Nemthur;  and  having  probably  heard  or  read  that  the 
Saint  was  bom  in  Bi'itain,  and  not  reflecting  that  there  was  another 


320 

Britain  distinct  from  Great  Britain,  he,  in  his  easy  ignorance,  casts 
about  for  some  British  town  to  correspond,  and  finally  lights  on  Al- 
cluit,  which  was  the  Nemthur  in  question,  now  called  Dumbarton,  in 
Scotland. 

Again,  it  might  have  occuiTed  that  the  name  Kilpatrick  gave  rise 
to  the  vulgar  opinion  that  it  must  have  been  the  birthplace  of  the 
Saint;  to  which  may  be  added  a  strange  fable  relative  to  the  origin 
of  St.  Patrick's  well  in  the  Church  of  Kilpatrick.  When  an  infant 
he  was  brought  to  be  baptized;  no  water  being  convenient,  the 
priest  made  with  the  child's  hand  the  sign  of  the  cross  upon  the 
ground.  Forthwith  sprang  up  a  fountain,  with  the  water  of  which 
he  first  washed  his  own  eyes,  and  obtained  the  blessing  of  sight, 
having  hitherto  been  blind.  He  then  baptized  the  infant  from  the 
same  fountain.  Then  we  have  a  rock  in  the  Clyde  still  called  St.  Pat- 
rick's stone. 

To  destroy  the  pretensions  of  the  Scotch,  it  may  be  no  more  than 
necessary  to  state,  that  there  is  not,  and  never  was,  any  such  town  as 
Nemthyir  in  Britain.  It  is  not  to  be  found  in  a  best  British  map  illus- 
trated by  Usher  himself,  nor  upon  any  of  the  ancient  atlases  of  the 
country.  Even  Colgan,  who  seeks  to  trace  up  Usher's  assertion  by 
a  copious  citation  of  authorities,  fails  to  make  out  its  existence. 

Colgan  himself  acknoAvledges  that  there  was  an  ancient  tradition 
among  the  inhabitants  of  Armoric  Britain,  that  St.  Patrick  was  born 
in  their  country.  He  quotes  Probus  to  this  purpose,  but  singularly 
enough,  omits  this  pregnant  passage  from  St.  Patrick's  own  con- 
fession: "My  father  was  Calpornius,  a  deacon,  a  son  of  Potitus  a 
priest  of  the  town  Bonaven  Taberniae.  We  had  near  the  town  a 
small  villa  Enon  where  I  became  a  captive." 

Now  it  is  needless  to  say  that  no  British  writer  will  ever  succeed  in 
making  out  that  Bonaven  Taberniae  was  located  anywhere  north  of 
the  Strait  of  Dover.  So  far  from  that,  Bonaven  Taberniae  was  in 
Armoric  Gaul,  being  the  same  town  as  Boulogne  sur  Mer  in  Picardy, 
in  Northwest  France,  and  not  far  from  the  present  city  of  Calais. 
This  town  was  known  to  the  ancient  Romans,  and  was  by  them  Lat- 
inized into  Bononia.  The  word  is  derived  from  bon,  mouth,  and  aven, 
river.  St.  Patrick  added  Taberniae,  lest  it  might  be  confounded  with 
a  city  in  Italy  of  the  same  name,  now  called  Boulogne, — for  it  was  in 
the  district  of  Tiberniae, written  also  Tarvenna,Tavernia,  or  Tanabama. 


321 

As  to  the  term  Nemthur,  mentioned  by  Probus,  it  undoubtedly 
marked  a  province  in  Armoric  Gaul;  and  this  is  a  corruption  of 
Neustria,  written  also  Neptua,  or  Neptricium,  which  comprised  the 
extensive  tract  between  the  Meuse  and  the  Loire,  and  consequently 
the  territory  of  Boulogne.  St.  Patrick  was,  therefore,  a  French- 
man. Gaul,  for  a  gift,  gave  Patrick  to  Ireland,  and  Ireland  gave  Co- 
lambanis  to  Gaul. 

St.  Patrick  was  a  man  of  very  respectable  parentage,  and  belonged 
to  that  class  of  persons  who  were  alone  entitled  to  hold  civil  offices  ; 
a  privilege  which,  in  the  Roman  Empire,  was  annexed  to  estated 
men.  Indeed,  the  name  itself,  Patricius,  signifies  one  of  noble  or 
patrician  birth.    He  tells  us  that  he  sold  his  nobility  to  serve  God. 

His  father  was  very  probably  of  Roman  origin,  as  the  name  Cal- 
purnos  is  indicative  of  Roman  extraction.  His  mother  was  doubtless 
a  native  of  some  country  in  Gaul,  and  was  called  Couches  or  Con- 
chessa,  the  daughter  of  Ocbasius.  She  was  thought  by  some  to  be 
a  daughter  or  niece  of  St.  Martin  of  Tours,  but  this  is  a  conjecture 
which  lacks  likelihood  from  the  fact  that  no  such  relationship  is 
mentioned  by  the  best  authorities  on  the  subject.  Still  more  un- 
founded are  the  ludicrous  stories  of  St.  Patrick's  sisters,  who  are 
said  to  have  been  with  him  in  Ireland,  and  their  numerous  children. 
As  to  the  date  of  our  Saint's  birth,  chronology  is  aU  chaos  and  con- 
fusion. The  nearest  approach  to  truth  is,  that  as  he  was  consecrated 
in  432,  when  about  forty-five  years  of  age,  we  may  assign  his  birth 
to  387.  This  leads  to  the  time  of  his  Irish  captivity,  which  occurred 
when  he  was  about  sixteen,  or  in  403. 

About  this  time  Nial  of  the  Nine  Hostages,  King  of  Ireland,  hav- 
ing ravaged  the  coasts  of  South  Britain,  began  to  plunder  the  mari- 
time districts  of  Gaul,  and  during  this  expedition  of  the  Celts,  Pat- 
rick was  taken  into  captivity. 

Upon  his  entry  into  Ireland,  he  was  compelled  to  serve  four 
brothers,  three  of  whom  sold  their  interest  in  him  to  the  fourth, 
named  Melcho,  or  Meliac,  who  dwelt  in  what  is  now  the  County 
Antrim.  His  occupation  was  to  tend  sheep,  which  allowed  him 
ample  time  for  the  practice  of  his  prayers  ;  for  as  he  teUs  us  him- 
self, having  been  heedless  of  religion  as  a  boy,  and  finding  himself 
in  a  miserable  state  of  slavery,  God  opened  his  eyes  and  brought 
him  to  a  sense  of  his  duty  and  sorrow  for  his  former  transgressions  ; 
21 


322 

and  thus  it  was  that,  in  his  own  words,  whether  on  the  bleak  moun- 
tains of  Antrim,  or  in  the  depths  of  the  forests  amidst  snow,  frost, 
or  rain,  he  used  to  rise  before  daylight  to  offer  his  orisons  to  God. 

From  this  servitude  he  was  released  at  the  age  of  twenty-two, 
being  directed  by  a  vision  to  a  vessel  about  to  sail  from  the  South  of 
Ireland,  and  having  disembarked  upon  Gaelic  ground,  he  found 
himself  once  more  among  the  friends  of  his  youth  on  his  own 
beloved  soil. 

Of  St.  Patrick's  eventful  career  from  the  time  of  his  return  home, 
— his  second  captivity, — his  visit  to  Great  Britain, — his  journey  to 
Rome, — his  studies  at  Lerens, — it  would  be  too  tedious  and  prolix  a 
task  to  commit  to  circumstantial  narration.  It  was  while  dwelling 
with  his  own  people  that  God  favored  him  with  the  vision  which 
probably  determined  his  mission,  and  which  he  thus  himself  relates: 
"  I  saw  in  a  nocturnal  vision,  a  man  coming  as  if  from  Ireland, 
whose  name  was  Victoricius,  with  innumerable  letters,  one  of  which 
he  handed  to  me.  On  reading  the  beginning  of  it  I  found  it  con- 
tained these  words:  'The  voice  of  the  Irish.'  And  while  reading,  I 
thought  I  heard  at  the  same  time  the  voice  of  persons  from  near  the 
wood  Foclut,  which  is  near  the  Western  Sea.  And  they  cried 
out  as  if  with  one  voice  :  *  We  entreat  thee,  holy  youth,  to  come  and 
walk  stiU  amongst  us.' "  It  was  doubtless  fifteen  years  after  this,  or 
in  432,  that  he  was  consecrated  Bishop  in  his  own  country  and  ap- 
pointed by  Pope  Celestine  to  be  the  successor  of  Palladius  in  Ire- 
land. He  set  out  for  Ireland  the  same  year  and  landed  likely  some- 
where in  Leinster.  He  labored  with  unfaltering  fidelity  and  signal 
success  for  the  Irish  people  from  that  day  to  the  day  of  his  death, 
which  occurred  in  465  of  the  Christian  era,  and  in  the  seventy- 
eighth  year  of  his  age.  He  died  at  Gaul,  and  tradition  has  it  that 
he  is  buried  in  Down,  according  to  the  old  couplet : 

"  In  Down  three  Saints  one  grave  do  fill, 
Patrick,  Bridget,  and  Columbkille." 


LECTURES 


I. 

THE  HARMONY  OF  RELIGION  * 

DELIVEEED  AT  ST.  BRIDGET'S   CHURCH,  JERSEY   CITY. 

The  music  of  that  mighty  Voice,  which,  from  the  silent  depths  of 
eternity,  called  order  out  of  chaos,  commanded  light  to  shine  upon  the 
rayless  gloom,  and  bade  worlds  of  beauty  bud  forth  from  the  formless 
void,  still  finds  responsive  echo  in  the  human  soul.  The  harmony  of 
heaven  alone  can  thrill  the  vibrant,  tuneful  chords  within  the  human 
heart,  and  all  earth-bom  sound  is  but  discord,  unless  attuned  by 
angel  hands  and  matched  to  melody  like  the  glad  refrain  unnum- 
bered voices  sang  upon  the  blessed  night  that  gave  our  Saviour 
birth. 

As  all  things  are  continued  in  existence  by  the  principle  from 
which  they  sprang,  so,  also,  as  the  needle  seeks  the  pole,  do  they 
tend  back  to  the  primal  cause  of  their  origin.  Upon  this  principle 
the  harmony  of  the  universe  depends.  Man  marks  no  exception. 
And  thus  the  human  soul,  with  striving  and  with  longing,  seeks  to 
work  its  way  to  the  first  Fountain  of  its  being;  looking,  from  morning's 
rosy  manhood  till  the  pale  starlight  of  dechning  days  is  quenched 
within  the  tomb,  for  the  Light  that  fadeth  never;  listening  with  eager 
ear  for  some  vagrant  strain  of  those  seraphic  sounds  which  broke 
upon  the  shores  of  far-off  time,  when  "  the  morning  stars  sang  to- 
gether, and  the  sons  of  God  made  joyful  melody.'* 

The  poet's  pathos  voiced  the  common  aspiration,  when  in  the 
magnificent  temple  of  mystic  song,  he  tuned  his  lyre  to  his  own  im- 
passioned longing: 

*  From  the  New  York  Freeman*8  Journal. 


326 

"  There  calleth  me  ever  a  marvellous  horn, 

Come  away  I  Come  away  ! 
Is  it  earthly  music  faring  astray, 

Or  is  it  air- born  ? 
Oh  1  whether  it  be  a  spirit-wile 

Or  forest  voice, 
It  biddeth  my  aching  spirit  rejoice, 

Yet  sorrow  the  while, 

"  In  the  greenwood  glade,  o'er  the  gladdening  bowl, 
Night,  noontide,  and  morn, 
The  summoning  call  of  that  marvellous  horn 
Tones  home  to  my  soul. 
^  In  vain  have  I  sought  it,  east  and  west, 

But  I  darkly  feel, 
That  so  soon  as  its  music  shall  cease  to  peal, 
I  go  to  my  rest." 

But  is  it  only  the  sound  of  the  Siren's  call,  like  that  of  the  Maid  of 
Lurlei  Fells,  who  sits  upon  the  ocean  rocks,  her  foam-flecked  golden 
hair  streaming  down  the  wind,  as  with  harp  in  hand,  she  strikes  the 
chords  and  sings  her  soul-bewitching  melody  ?  Is  it  the  madness  of 
the  moth  for  the  star,  the  hopeless  love  of  the  fading  violet  for  the 
beamy  smile  of  spring  ?  Is  it  "  the  baseless  fabric  of  a  vision,"  like 
Irmo's  phantom  cloud,  long  wooed  in  vain  by  the  love-lorn  Thes- 
salian  prince  ?  Is  man  only  a  day-dreamer,  and  life  one  long  illu- 
sion ?  Pale  evening  sees  the  wreath  of  morning  faded,  the  enamel- 
led years  are  shorn  of  their  lustre,  and  the  gray  twflight  shadows 
follow  on  the  noon  of  life,  but  the  "  lost  chord  "  beats  not  in  the 
symphonious  cithern  of  the  soul,  and  the  modulations  of  that  mar- 
vellous melody  trembles  into  silence,  its  dying  cadence  into  a  calm, 
voiceless,  wordless,  unsyUabled: 

•*  I  heard  it  once  one  little  while  and  then  no  more  ; 
'Twas  paradise  on  earth  the  while,  and  then  no  more." 

Ah !  what  is  this  vague  unrest  and  ardent  longing,  but  what  Schiller 
calls  the  homesickness  of  the  soul,  passionately  yearning,  as  with 
strong  crying  and  tears,  for  the  winged  Ideal,  the  realm  of  rosy  joy 
and  love,  glowing  in  the  distance,  where  fragrant  airs  are  blowing, 
and  where  music   far   sweeter   than  the   melody  of  ApoUo's  lute, 


327 

carolled  by  celestial  choirs,  make  the  harmony  of  heaven  and  the 
golden  peace  of  God. 

But  the  Eternal  Harmonist  is  not  heard  as  man  Hstens  to  man. 
Who  can  find  Him,  hold  Him,  or  utter  Him  ?  Man  stands  in  His 
presence;  is  clothed  with  His  light;  is  the  object  of  His  thought  and 
love.  And  yet  He  is  awful,  illimitably  great  and  glorious.  Phi- 
losophy and  science,  even  worship  and  song,  are  awed  and  abashed 
in  His  ineffable  presence.  Still,  He  is  not  far  away.*  Non  longe  est 
ab  unoque  nostrum  (Act.  xviii.).  His  breath  is  upon  our  cheek,  like 
the  blush  of  dawn  upon  the  cheek  of  day.  The  spiritual  man  be- 
nolds  His  Spirit  with  the  eye  of  purified  faith,  and  worships  Him 
with  the  enthusiasm  which  only  eternal  love  and  beauty  can  evoke. 
Man  is  a  spark  of  the  eternal  Fire,  He  pines  for  the  perfect;  he 
sighs  for  the  ideal;  he  burns  to  behold  the  Infinite  Beauty.  Man 
has  an  immortal  part.  It  is  the  immortal  that  can  commune  with 
the  Immortal;  it  is  the  spirit  that  can  conceive  the  Spirit.  *'For 
the  Spirit  reacheth  all  things,  yea,  the  deep  things  of  God  "  (1  Cor. 
V.  2). 

And  when  the  raptures  of  mystic  devotion  transport  the  soul  to 
that  inner  sphere,  just  on  the  hither  side  of  the  tabernacle  of  holi- 
ness and  beauty,  'tis  then  that 

"  Earth  is  crammed  with  heaven, 
And  every  common  bush  afire  with  God." 

All  Nature's  harmonies  peal  forth  the  psalmody  of  God.  There  is  a 
"music  of  the  Spheres."  Every  atom  of  dust  is  a  revelation  of 
God's  power;  every  grain  of  wheat  a  token  of  His  goodness;  every 
flower  a  hint  of  His  surpassing  beauty.  The  enchanted  soul  would 
break  its  prison-bars  and  dwell  in  its  idealized  home,  the  kingdom 
of  the  Spirit.  She  would  drink  from  the  crystal  streams,  where  purest 
pearls  and  sands  of  gold  begem  the  shining  shore.  She  looks  out 
upon  the  fields,  the  vines,  and  the  flowers,  with  clairvoyant  gaze,  and 
calls  from  them  analogies  and  meanings  oracular  of  truth  and  beauty. 
In  the  relucent  air  she  sees  the  sheen  of  Tabor  and  the  glory  of 
Sinai,  and  hovering  around  her  Moses  and  Elias  and  all  the  star-em- 
blazoned hosts.  The  Unseen  finds  a  realization.  To  the  "  inward 
eye  "  the  Invisible  seemeth  all  but  visible.  In  the  midst  of  this 
harsh,  irksome  world,  there  is  a  sweet  hidden  world,  where  prayer 


328 

brings  peace  and  faith  finds  reward.  In  the  longed-for  Elysium, 
earth's  change  and  grief  and  toil  are  turned  into  the  reality  of  bliss- 
ful rest,  and  the  cruel  wounds  of  this  sad,  outward  life  find  healing 
and  the  balm  of  consolation.  The  love-illumined  mind  discerns  the 
glory  of  its  God  in  the  resplendent  beams  of  Nature;  happy  to  hear 
the  music  of  His  voice  in  the  mobile  elements,  to  see  His  movement 
in  the  rolling  storm.  His  majesty  in  the  lurid  lightning;  glad  to  be- 
hold His  beauty  in  the  breezy  twilight  of  the  evening-time;  charmed 
to  listen  to  His  whispers  in  the  events  of  life  and  history.  The 
music  that  strikes  not  the  unsympathetic  ear,  the  celestial  harmony 
of  spirit  melting  into  spirit,  fills  the  wild  expanse  of  Nature,  and  in 
the  over-arching  calmness  of  the  infinite  blue  above  the  soul  longs 
to  soar  and  be  at  rest.  Earth  fades  from  sight.  The  ear  with 
sounds  seraphic  rings.  A  new  world  is  born  in  the  heart — a  world 
that  robes  the  Past  in  the  hues  of  fancy,  and  gilds  the  Futui'e  with 
the  iris-bow  of  hope.  It  is  the  bridal  of  the  earth  and  sky— the 
Epithalamium  of  the  constellated  spheres. 

**  I  saw  two  clouds  at  morning, 
Tinged  by  the  rising  sun, 
And  in  the  dawn  they  floated  on. 
And  mingled  into  one." 

Now,  Nature  sings  of  God  because  her  harmonies  are  born  of 
heaven.  She  makes  no  music  peculiarly  her  own.  Nature  is  a  vast 
and  wondrous  organ  "  symphonious  of  ten  thousand  harps,"  but  the 
foot  of  the  Omnipotent  is  on  her  pedals;  His  almighty  breath  fills 
her  resounding  pipes;  His  all-moving  fingers  sweep  her  countless 
keys,  and,  trembling  at  His  touch,  she  peals  forth  with  trumpet- 
tongue,  a  trillion  tones  of  thunder. 

"  Each  individual  soul  that  lives 
And  feels  and  bends  reflective  on  itself," 

is  conscious  that  from  the  mighty  instrument  of  Nature  no  music, 
nor  one  syllable  of  sound  can  come,  save  that  called  forth  by  the  in- 
finite genius  of  that  puissant  Artist, 

**  Who  rules  the  spheres  and  makes  the  worlds  rejoice." 

"  The  kingdom  of  God  is  within  us"  (Luke  xviii.  21),  and  hence  the 
music  of  the  heart  intones  our  Maker's  melodies,  and  so  exalts  the 


329 

mind  in  ecstasy  of  contemplation  that  it  fain  would  conceive  how  the 
magic  hand  of  the  Almighty  Master  and  divine  Musician  hath 
builded,  and  how  hath  played,  that  majestic  Organ  whence  the  har- 
mony of  heaven  sounds  through  the  vaulted  arches  of  the 
Universe,  and  fills  the  corridors  of  Time  with  the  eternal  anthems  of 
God's  glory.  The  Universe  in  one  stately  temple  of  matchless 
beauty  and  divine  proportion,  in  which  an  incessant  and  harmonious 
hymn  of  homage  goes  up  in  glad,  responsive  chorus  to  the  great  Cre- 
ator, from  all  the  starry  hosts  and  all  the  myriad  forms  of  life  that 
people  the  wide-spread  pavilion  of  the  world.  How  harmonious, 
how  divine,  are  the  appointments  of  the  Cathedral  of  Creation,  in 
design  and  execution,  in  artistic  beauty  of  arrangement  -With  refer- 
ence to  the  final  end !  Rising  to  the  conception  of  the  principle  of 
order,  the  great  First  Cause,  who  so  sweetly  and  so  strongly  disposed 
all  things  unto  their  appointed  ends,  and  referring  all  things  back  to 
Him,  agreeably  to  the  laws  impressed  upon  them,  the  mind,  as  far 
as  the  limited  may  grasp  the  illimitable,  perceives  the  order,  the 
beauty,  and  the  harmony  of  the  whole.  Oh !  my  soul,  rouse  all 
thy  powers,  and  bring  to  bear  thy  most  recollected  thoughts,  that, 
hke  the  Royal  Prophet,  thou  mayest  cry:  In  the  morning,  Lord,  I 
shall  stand  before  Thee,  and  I  shall  see.  Pause  then,  O  my  soul, 
and  consider  the  wonderful  works  of  God. 

Let  us  exalt  our  thoughts,  in  fancy,  far  beyond  the  mui'ky  atmos- 
phere of  all  terrene  existence,  and,  traversing  the  lane  of  beams  that 
leads  to  the  vestibule  of  unctuated  light,  we  shall  rest  at  length  under 
the  radiant  archway  of  the  Lifinite's  abode,  to  survey  with  enrapt- 
ured vision  the  realm  of  eternal  life.  Behold  the  Lord  of  Life,  as 
the  Prophet  hath  described  Him,  sitting  on  His  sublime  and  elevated 
thi'one,  and  stretching  forth  His  hand  with  omnipotent  sway  over 
all  the  boundless  possibilities  of  being.  Behold  Him  whom  the 
Stagirite  declared  to  be  the  Primal  Centre  of  aU  being,  whose 
life  is  essential  activity, — the  Prime  Mover,  setting  all  things  in  mo- 
tion, and  drawing  them  by  the  threads  of  destiny  back  unto  Him- 
self. In  the  journeys  of  His  eternity,  the  great  First  Cause  sent 
forth  a  mighty  movement  through  every  pulse  and  artery  of  Time, 
and  the  chain  of  causation  extended  to  all  created  forms.  From  the 
primary  impulse  of  almighty  power  were  imparted  life  and  being  to 
all  grades  of  existent  things;  and  from  the  exercise  of  the  divine  ac- 


330 

tivity  resulted  the  outward  expression  of  that  harmony  which  is  the 
unchangeable  characteristic  of  divinity,  and  that  beauty  and  fra- 
grance of  creation  which  are  the  breath  of  the  immortal  bloom  of  its 
Creator.  From  God  all  things  proceed;  upon  Him  they  depend;  to 
Him  they  will  return.  In  the  expressive  language  of  the  poet  and 
philosopher: 

"  Ere  the  radiant  Sun 

Sprang  from  the  East,  or,  'mid  the  vault  of  night, 

The  moon  suspended  her  serener  lamp; 

Ere  mountains,  woods,  or  streams  adorned  the  globe. 

Or  Wisdom  taught  the  sons  of  men  her  lore; 

There  lived  the  Eternal  One:  then  deep  retired 

In  His  un fathomed  essence,  viewed  the  forms, 

The  forms  eternal  of  created  things: 

The  radiant  sun,  the  moon's  nocturnal  lamp, 

The  mountains,  woods,  and  streams,  the  rolling  globe, 

And  Wisdom's  mien  celestial.     From  the  first 

Of  days,  on  them  His  love  divine  He  fixed, 

His  admiration,  till  in  time  complete, 

What  He  admired  and  loved,  His  vital  smile 

Unfolded  into  being.     Hence  the  breath 

Of  life  in  forming  each  organic  frame; 

Hence  the  green  earth,  and  wild  resounding  waves, 

The  clear,  autumnal  skies,  and  vernal  showers. 

And  all  the  fair  variety  of  things." 

"  To  him  who  in  the  love  of  JNature  holds  communion  with  her 
visible  forms,  she  speaks  a  various  language";  but  in  every  mood 
and  voice  she  proclaims  the  perfection  and  the  order  of  the  provi- 
dential plan  by  which  the  several  agencies  of  Nature  are  arranged 
in  harmony,  agreeably  to  the  will  of  Him  who  created  all  things  in 
number  and  weight  and  measure  (Wis.  xi.  21).  Law  and  order  reg- 
ulate the  whole  of  the  stupendous  structure.  The  love  of  order  is 
natural  to  man. 

The  feeblest  mind  cannot  fail  to  perceive  manifest  marks  of  those 
tendencies  called  laws,  which  maintain  the  constancy  of  Nature,  and 
beget  that  beauteous  harmony  which  pervades  the  world.  Where 
the  child  of  folly  sees  caprice,  or  like  the  ancient  stoics,  an  accidental 
medley  of  atoms  circling  through  the  realms  of  space,  the  child  of 
Nature  beholds  the  celestial  music  of  ten  thousand  instrumental 
■causes,  and  the  melodious  orchestra  of  Nature  chiming  forth  the 


331 

universal  chorus  of  creation.  Every  wayward  breeze,  every  falling 
shower,  every  gossamer  shadow,  and  every  thi-ead  of  light,  is  ruled 
by  the  propensity  of  law,  and  that  transplendent  unity  which  links 
aU  the  parts  together,  in  the  golden  chain  of  gradation,  is  designed 
by  the  same  Hand  that  paints  the  lily  and  gilds  the  summer  cloud. 

In  force  of  these  all-pervading  laws,  the  primordial  elements  were 
combined  and  hai'monized  ;  the  subtile  forces  of  electricity  and 
magnetism  were  embosomed  in  the  frame  of  matter,  and  by  skillful 
combination,  shapeless  substance  took  radiant  form,  and  bodies  of 
amazing  magnitude  were  sent  revolving  down  the  aisles  of  space,  all 
endowed  with  the  same  tendencies  of  their  first  elements,  suspended 
by  the  influence  of  an  Almighty  magnet,  and  all  held  together  by  an 
indefinable  attraction,  which  is  "  The  golden  reins  of  Him  who  guides 
the  purposes  of  Heaven  to  their  goal." 

How  magnificent  the  order  and  harmony  of  the  heavens !  See 
the  solemn  procession  of  the  planets,  and  the  shining  cavalcade  of 
stars,  as  they  tread  the  cerulean  concave,  never  deflecting  from  their 
track,  never  breaking  the  order  of  their  primeval  march.  The  sun 
riseth  in  his  place  with  peerless  majesty,  and  darts  his  burning 
beams  through  the  golden  window  of  the  east,  and  when  his  diurnal 
round  is  done,  he  retires  with  unspent  splendor  behind  the  unroUed 
curtain  of  the  night.  How  beautiful  the  succession  of  the  seasons, 
and  the  revolution  of  the  years,  with  their  characteristic  of  Spring- 
time bud  and  promise,  genial  growth  of  Summer,  fruitful  harvest  in 
the  Fall ;  ending  in  the  gloomy  desolation  of  Winter,  when  Nature 
takes  repose  and  prepares  for  the  renewal  of  her  annual  crops  and 
beauteous  flower  for  the  sustenance  and  delight  of  man.  Nor  does 
the  system  of  rotation  end  with  the  circling  seasons. 

There  is  admirable  rotation  in  the  process  by  which  rude  matter 
is  received  into  vegetable  composition  ;  whence  it  enters  into  animal 
forms,  finally  to  be  resolved  to  earth  again.  The  sea  seemeth  station- 
ary in  its  busy  bed,  as  it  rolls  its  resistless  tide  against  the  shore  ; 
but  there  is  a  beautiful  circuition  by  which  the  water  evaporated 
from  the  main  rises  to  refresh  the  air,  descends  to  earth  to  gush  forth 
in  fruitful  springs  and  streams,  and,  fertilizing  the  land  upon  its 
passage,  flows  back  again  to  mingle  with  the  billows  of  the  ocean. 
With  what  nice  recurvity  do  plants  pump  up  the  moisture  needed 
for  their  growth,  and  when  their  blooming-time  is  past,  they  sink 


332 

into  the  soil  that  gave  them  birth.  The  earth  bares  her  brown 
bosom  to  receive  the  sun's  kindling  beams  as  he  mounts  from  the 
horizon  to  the  zenith,  and  to  equalize  the  temperature,  she  irradiates 
the  heat  again  to  congeal  the  moisture  into  dew  for  the  sake  of  her 
refreshment.  Nature  abounds  with  arcs  of  beauty,  lines  of  light, 
circles  of  harmony.  In  her  alembic  the  elements  are  mixed  with 
marvellous  proportion.  Chemistry  reveals  the  law  of  definite  pro- 
portions, and  the  basic  elements  coalesce  conformably  to  numerical 
rule.  Music  is  not  the  only  harmony  in  nature.  Acoustics,  as  a 
science,  rests  upon  recognized  relations  between  sound  and  numbers, 
and  the  melodious  combinations  that  enchant  the  ear,  are  reducible 
to  the  laws  of  mathematics.  The  prismatic  colors  of  the  rainbow 
are  subject  to  endless  coml)ination,  and  as  every  color  has  its  com- 
plementary, the  blending  makes  the  perfect  beam,  and  gives  room  to 
unnumbered  others  in  Nature  and  in  Art..  The  beautiful  crystalline 
formations,  seen  in  the  snowflakes  and  dazzling  gems  of  the  mineral 
world,  have  their  fixed  angles,  sides,  and  proportions.  The  science 
of  optics  is  based  on  the  relations  between  angles  and  numbers. 
The  law  of  gravitation  is  itself  expressed  in  numbers.  The  heavenly 
bodies  have  their  regular  curvatures,  and  their  shapes  and  motions 
are  defined  with  precision  in  number,  weight,  and  measure.  Crystal 
jewels,  rude  matter,  plants,  satellites,  and  suns,  every  department  of 
Nature,  shows  forth  the  laws  of  numerical  and  symmetrical  order. 
The  size  and  volume  of  the  earth,  and  its  laws  of  gravity  are  adapted 
to  the  life  upon  it.  The  world  is  placed  in  such  position  that  lunar 
influence  may  not  overflow  the  tides  ;  the  planets  are  poised  with 
such  exactitude,  that  relative  distance  has  reference  to  size  and 
weight,  and  these  to  gravitation  ;  and  all  are  fixed  within  the  solar 
system,  so  that  the  central  sun  gives  light  and  heat,  that  the  organ- 
isms upon  the  earth  may  not  perish. 

In  organic  life  there  is  a  nice  adjustment  of  the  constituents  of 
the  body,  all  coming  and  departing  at  appointed  periods,  so  that  in 
seven  years  the  animal  frame  renews  itself  like  the  eagle.  The 
human  body  is  a  chemical  laboratory,  in  which,  by  beautiful 
and  wonderful  process,  matter  is  sublimated  into  blood,  and 
blood  into  brain  and  nervous  force,  so  closely  akin  to  spiritual  sub- 
stance. 

The  animal  substance  is  thus  linked  to  the  intellectual  and  spirit- 


333 

uaJ,  and  man,  the  crowning  work  of  creation,  thus  comprises  in  his 
person  the  vegetable,  mineral,  and  animal  kingdoms.  From  the 
most  perfect  vital  types  of  the  vegetable  creation  we  ascend  to  the 
least  of  the  animal  kingdom,  which  again  rises  through  endless  forms 
and  varieties  to  the  highest  in  instinct  and  sagacity.  But  the  law 
of  creation  stops  not  here.  Between  the  highest  animal  organism 
and  the  lowest  intelligence  there  supervenes  a  great  chasm.  The 
point  of  contact  can  be  found  in  man.  From  the  lower  animal  Ufe 
we  advance  to  humanity.  Man's  highly  finished  organism  unites 
the  animal  and  vegetable  kingdoms,  and  these,  in  turn,  are  linked 
by  his  soul  to  the  realms  of  spiritual  reality,  even  to  the  invisible 
choirs  of  angelic  intelligence. 

All  angels,  all  men,  to  a  C3i*tain  degree  all  creations,  are  individ- 
ualities from  the  pinnacle  of  creation  to  the  lowermost  extremities 
thereof,  united  in  a  wonderful  way  to  the  divine  Mediator,  the 
Saviour  and  Kedeemer  of  mankind,  partaking  of  His  purpose.  His 
mind,  His  will,  and  His  affections,  raise  to  God  a  canticle  of  praise 
and  hymn  of  adoration,  a  song  of  glory  in  beautiful  and  accordant 
hai'mony  with  that  which  rose  up  silently  in  the  bosom  of  the  In- 
finite, when,  in  the  day  of  His  eternity,  He  uttered  His  infinite 
Word,  breathed  forth  His  holy  spirit  and  loved  and  recognized 
Himself  as  the  God  of  glory  who  was  the  same  yesterday,  to-day, 
and  forever.     Man  is,  therefore,  the  bond  of  all  creation. 

The  aspirations  of  the  soul  and  the  utterances  of  Nature  combine 
with  one  united  voice  to  teach  man  dependence  on  his  Maker,  and 
communion  with  his  God.  The  acknowledgment  of  this  dependence 
constitutes  religion,  and  its  external  expression  makes  worship. 
Man  must  worship  his  Creator.  The  noblest  work  of  God,  and  the 
crown  of  creation,  he  beholds  all  creatures  by  which  he  is  sur- 
rounded, caUing  upon  him  to  praise  and  glorify  his  God. 

In  Nature's  mirror  he  sees  the  face  of  God.  In  Nature's  voice  he 
hears  the  voice  of  God.  By  the  fact  of  creation  he  belongs  to  God. 
All  his  faculties,  his  powers,  his  energies,  are  the  property  of  God. 
He  was  created,  and  he  is  sustained  by  God.  God  surrounded  him 
with  loving-kindness,  showers  benisons  upon  his  head,  soothes  all  his 
soiTows.  He  rests  in  the  divine  arms,  leans  on  the  heart  of  God. 
The  end  of  man  is  the  glory  of  God. 

The  laws  of  gratitude  demand  return  for  service  freely  rendered. 


334 

What  restitution  can  man  make  unto  his  Maker  ?  Quid  retrihuam 
Domino  pro  omnibus  quae  retribuet  mihi  ?  He  can  make  tribute  of  his 
powers  and  confession  of  his  praise.  Man  possesses  mind  and  heart, 
and  to  these  is  added  speech  that  both  may  find  their  adequate  ex- 
pression. The  mind  he  yields  by  faith,  the  heart  by  love;  and  in 
the  employment  of  speech  to  voice  his  faith  and  love,  he  surrenders 
up  to  God  those  faculties  which  constitute  his  manhood,  and  sum- 
mons the  mute  and  silent  voices  of  creation  to  pour  forth  prayer  and 
praise  to  that  beneficent  Being  who  made  all  things  for  man,  but 
man  himself  for  God. 

Man  is  Nature's  lord  and  sovereign.  The  earth  is  his  palace  and 
dwelhng-place.  Her  fruits  yield  him  support;  her  flowers,  fragrance; 
her  shining  stores,  abundance.  The  winds  may  not  stay  him,  nor 
the  sea.  The  mountains  move  and  whirl  at  his  command.  His  feet 
are  iron;  his  hands  are  steel;  his  breath  is  steam,  and  his  brain  is 
lightning.  At  his  nod  art  lifts  her  angelic  features,  and  like  a  bright 
child  of  morning,  sends  her  beautiful  creations  over  all  the  earth; 
science  pushes  back  her  multi-colored  mantle,  seizes  upon  the  ele- 
ments, draws  the  lightning  from  the  skies  and  harnesses  it  to  the  car 
of  progress  to  be  the  messenger  of  man ;  literature  throws  open  her 
iron-bolted  vaults  and  opens  her  exhaustless  treasures  to  the  mind; 
commerce  spreads  her  snowy  wings,  and  with  the  ensign  of  freedom 
at  her  peak,  scours  the  seas,  and  empties  her  boundless  acquisitions 
into  the  lap  of  his  prosperity. 

But  as  he  is  the  lord,  so  is  he  the  interpreter  and  prophet  of  Na- 
ture. Earth  is  the  spacious  temple  wherein  his  prayers  ascend,  and 
the  altar  upon  which  he  makes  offering  of  all  he  is  and  has,  to  God. 
Man  is  the  mystic  prophet  to  explain  the  sweet  symbolism  of  Na- 
ture. Nature's  order  sj^eaks  to  him  of  purpose;  her  harmony  of 
praise.  The  first  object-lesson  which  she  teaches,  is  that  she  was  not 
made  to  administer  to  man's  material  wants  so  much  as  to  enable 
him  to  serve  and  praise  his  Maker.     Nature  leads  to  religion. 

To  this  sublime  end,  the  Church  of  Christ,  which  teaches  man  the 
duties  of  religion,  employs  Nature  to  assist  her,  and  reproduces  Na- 
ture's symbolic  teachings  in  her  splendid  ritual.  All  things  she  con- 
secrates to  God's  sacred  service,  and  by  this  dedication  she  gives 
voice  and  meaning  to  the  imperfect  praise  of  inanimate  and  inartic- 
ulate creation. 


335 

And  as  she  invokes  the  aid  of  Nature,  so  does  she  make  Art  trib- 
utary to  her  service.  It  is  the  function  of  Art  to  reproduce  Nature, 
to  give  interpretation  to  her  voice.  As  Nature  is  the  handmaid  of 
religion,  Art  is  truly  Art  when  it  is  essentially  religious.  Art  and 
Science  are  twin  flowers  in  the  stem  of  faith.  Eeligion  is  the  soul 
and  inspiration  of  Art.     Christianity  is  the  light  of  the  world. 

The  Church,  therefore,  true  to  her  august  mission,  has  always  been 
the  patron  of  Art.  With  divine  instinct  she  recognizes  the  power 
of  the  senses  upon  the  heart  and  character.  Her  temples  of  divine 
worship  are  exquisitely  venerable.  The  magnificence  of  fabric; 
the  lofty  concave  roof;  the  majestic  column  and  stately  pillar; 
the  grand  arch  and  tapering  spire;  the  extensive  aisles;  the  stained 
and  decorated  windows,  softened  by  dim  religious  light;  the  splen- 
did altar,  the  brilliant  tapers,  the  smoked  fragrance  of  incense,  and 
matchless  statuary,  are  powerful  aids  to  piety,  and  are  well  calculated 
to  inspire  the  mind  of  man  with  the  solemnity  and  awe  which  befits 
the  majesty  of  G-od's  holy  presence.  The  incomparable  productions 
of  the  intellect,  the  divine  gift  of  oratory,  and  the  angelic  gift  of 
song,  are  all  devoted  to  the  same  service  of  the  Deity. 

If  there  is  one  faculty  which  more  than  another  gives  glory  to 
God,  it  is  the  voice  of  man.  If  there  be  any  power  of  soul-subduing 
influence,  it  is  the  power  of  music.  The  solemn  chant  and  sublime 
anthem  compose  and  elevate  the  restless  heart  of  man.  The  melo- 
dious intonations  of  music  by  some  magnetic  efficacy,  thrill  and  en- 
rapture the  soul,  and  it  ascends,  like  a  star,  above  the  horizon,  till  it 
rests  upon  those  prominent  peaks  of  prayerful  contemplation  which 
rise  out  of  the  dark  shadows  of  this  under-world,  and  having  taken 
the  boundless  excursion,  it  beholds  a  kindling  light,  Hke  the  fore- 
glow  of  an  eternal  sunburst,  and  rests  in  rapture  at  the  very  feet  of 
its  Creator  and  its  God. 

My  dear  brethren,  you  love  the  beauty  of  God's  house,  and  place 
where  His  glory  dwelleth.  You  are  not  insensible  to  the  holy  duty 
of  prayer  and  praise  towards  your  Maker,  and  you  seek  by  every 
means  to  embrace  the  dignity  of  the  divine  service  in  the  temple 
which  your  loving  liberality  has  raised  to  the  loving  God.  To  sing 
His  songs  of  everlasting  praises,  you  have  introduced  here  a  power- 
ful instrument  of  music,  a  majestic  organ,  whose  resonant  tones,  ac- 
companied by  your  pious  chant,  shall  awake  echoes  in  the  halls  of 


336 

heaven.  Praise  the  Lord,  then,  with  glad,  exultant  voice.  "  Praise 
Him  in  His  holy  places.  Praise  ye  Him  in  the  firmament  of  His 
power;  praise  ye  Him  for  His  mighty  acts;  praise  ye  Him  according 
to  the  multitude  of  His  greatness;  praise  Him  with  the  sound  of  the 
trumpet;  praise  Him  with  psaltery  and  harp;  praise  Him  with  tim- 
brel and  choir;  praise  Him  with  strings  and  organs;  praise  Him 
with  high-sounding  cymbals;  praise  Him  on  cymbals  of  joy.  Let 
every  spirit  praise  the  Lord." 


11. 

THE  KINGDOM  OF  CHRIST— A  KINGDOM  OF  WAR 
AND  A  KINGDOM  OF  PEACE. 

ANNIVERSARY   OF  ST.  MARY'S   CHURCH,  HOBOKEN,  N.  J. 

In  the  history  of  the  world  the  central  figure  is  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ.  In  the  annals  of  the  ages,  no  personality  of  such  many- 
sided  splendor  shall  appear  as  that  of  the  proscribed  Galilean,  who 
founded,  not  on  fear  or  force,  but  on  the  almighty  power  of  love,  a 
kingdom  that  shall  never  pass  away.  That  sweet  and  gentle  char- 
acter compels  the  admiration  and  engages  the  affections  of  millions 
of  men,  who,  to-day,  would  die  for  Him,  as  He  had  for  them. 
Under  the  scorching  Syrian  sun  and  beneath  the  pale  stars  of  Pales- 
tine, the  meek-souled  Master  passed  along,  sowing,  in  tears  and 
blood,  the  seeds  of  that  imperishable  Kingdom  wherein  should 
spring  the  flowers  of  life  and  hope  to  fallen  humanity.  "  In  His  life 
we  behold  the  path,  in  His  death  the  price,  and  in  His  great  ascent 
the  proof  of  immortality."  To  burst  the  iron  bars  of  death;  to  roll 
back  the  raging  billows  of  hell;  to  avert  from  guilty  man  the  frown 
of  the  Creator  and  ransom  the  enthralled.  He  trod  the  wine-press  all 
alone,  and  poured  His  throbbing  life  into  the  crimson  tide  of  Cal- 
vary, that  the  enfranchised  children  of  God  might  walk  with  joy 
through  the  uplifted  gates  of  glory.  He  speaks  and  all  nations  bow 
their  heads.  The  melody  of  His  words  is  sweeter  than  the  music  of 
Apollo's  lute,  and  His  sentiments  are  rapturous  visions  of  a  life 
where  aU  is  love.  There  is  no  lily  in  the  field,  and  there  is  no  rose 
in  the  valley,  whose  bloom  and  fragrance  are  not  the  breath  of  His 
surpassing  beauty.  There  is  no  flight  of  fowls  to  their  evening 
home  which  is  not  guided  by  His  care,  and  there  is  no  solitary  spar- 
row on  the  house-top  that  feels  not  the  shelter  of  His  all-holding 
22 


338 

hand.  Wherever  He  treads,  flowers  spring  under  His  feet;  and 
wherever  He  stands,  sorrow  and  self-complaint  are  hushed  and 
silent.  All  lands  echo  to  His  teaching,  and  He  sets  men's  souls  afire 
as  they  hear,  in  wondering  awe,  the  mystical  utterances  of  His 
mouth,  and  upon  the  sun-dried  hearts  who  respond  unto  His  call, 
the  unspeakable  peace  of  God  descends  like  showers  on  a  thirsty 
soil.  And  every  heart  did  bound,  and  every  breast  did  burn,  as  the 
fascinating  figure  of  the  lowly  Jesus  of  the  Galilean  lake  gently 
glided  through  the  impatient  throngs,  and  cast  His  pearls  of  truth 
upon  the  way,  and  sent  forth  that  voice  whose  electric  tones  pierce 
the  deep  vault  of  the  centuries,  and  still  echoes  from  zone  to  zone, 
and  pole  to  pole,  in  reverberating  thunders  round  the  world.  The 
multitudes  heard  and  wondered,  as  from  the  breezy  bosom  of  the 
lake,  from  the  shaggy  mountain-top,  or  from  the  silvery  sands  upon 
the  shore.  He  declared  the  short  and  simple  story  of  salvation  to  man- 
kind. The  multitudes  heard  and  wondered,  but  they  did  not  under- 
stand, for  "  He  opened  His  mouth  in  parables,  and  uttered  things 
hidden  from  the  foundation  of  the  world." 

"  The  Kingdom  of  Heaven,"  says  Jesus  Christ,  "  is  like  a  grain  of 
mustard-seed."  And,  again,  "  The  Kingdom  of  Heaven  is  like  to 
leaven  which  a  woman  took  and  hid  in  measures  of  meal."  And 
again,  "  The  kingdom  of  heaven  is  like  to  a  householder  who  went 
early  in  the  morning  to  hire  laborers  into  his  vineyard."  And  again, 
"  The  kingdom  of  heaven  is  like  to  a  man  who  sowed  good  seed  in 
his  field." 

The  meaning  of  these  parables  was  but  dimly  discerned  by  the 
hearers  of  the  Word,  for  much  conflict  of  opinion  prevailed  as  to 
the  nature  of  the  kingdom  which  the  Messias  would  establish.  Ex- 
cited by  dreams  of  ambition,  dazzled  by  the  splendor  of  prospective 
empire,  some  fondly  fancied  that  Jesus  was  come  to  subvert  the 
existing  dynasties  of  the  earth,  and,  in  their  room,  to  raise  an  em- 
pire, universal  in  extent,  unrivalled  in  its  glory,  and  exalted  in  its 
ascendency,  beyond  all  that  glowing  hope  or  exuberant  imagination 
could  conceive.  Impressed  by  the  poverty  of  His  prestige,  the  mild 
character  of  His  claims,  and  the  weakness  of  His  following,  others 
deemed  Him  an  idle  visionary,  who  aimed  at  t'le  introduction  of  an 
ideal  kingdom,  whose  prosperity  depended  on  its  power  to  captivate 
the  imagination  by  the  novelty  of  its  principles,  or  to  touch  the 


339 

heart  by  the  purity  of  its  morahty.  This  last  delusion  seemed  to 
derive  some  support  from  Jesus'  own  declaration,  that  His  kingdom 
was  not  of  this  world. 

On  the  day  that  the  noble  Nazarene,  the  victim  of  hate  and  fury, 
stood  accused  in  the  judgment  hall  of  Pilate,  the  Eoman  niler  thus 
addressed  Him :  ''  Art  Thou  the  King  of  the  Jews  V "  And  Jesus 
answered:  "  My  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world." 

Inheritors  of  the  kingdom,  who  glory  in  the  Cross  of  Jesus  Christ, 
need  you  be  reminded  that  this  repty  stands  yet  upon  the  record  to 
confound  those  calumniators  who  represent  the  religion  of  Jesus 
Christ  as  the  contrivance  of  impostors  and  the  engine  of  political 
power;  that  it  stands  upon  the  record  to  rebuke,  with  the  burning 
indignation  of  a  bleeding  God,  the  cowardice  and  subserviency  of 
modern  Pilates,  and  to  puU  down  the  shallow  pride  of  princes,  who, 
for  the  greed  of  gold,  or  for  the  breath  of  popular  applause,  can  be- 
tray Jesus  Christ  and  deliver  up  His  Church  to  the  malice  of  His 
enemies  ?  Need  I  tell  you  this  reply  is  indelibly  stamped  upon  the 
record  of  the  inspired  page,  to  comfort  and  console  the  Church  of 
God  in  the  dark  hours  of  affliction,  persecution,  oppression,  and 
apostasy;  for  whether  she  enjoy  the  favors  or  endure  the  frowns  of 
civil  governments;  whether  temporal  sovereignties  pass  away  and 
crumble  into  dust,  or  whether  they  be  extended  in  the  revolution  of 
events;  whether  "  the  cloud-capped  towers,  the  gorgeous  palaces, 
the  great  globe  itself,  and  aU  which  inhabit  it,  be  dissolved,  and,  like 
an  unsubstantial  pageant,  faded,  leave  not  a  wreck  behind"; — 
whether,  in  fine,  every  remnant  of  human  grandeur  be  blotted  out, 
and  sun  and  moon  and  stars,  shivered  into  atoms  by  the  thunder- 
bolts of  God,  disappear  in  the  darkness  of  eternal  night,  the  ever- 
lasting Prince  of  Peace  is  not  disturbed  upon  His  throne;  nor  shall 
the  dominion  of  His  followers  be  destroyed,  nor  their  prerogatives 
be  wrenched  from  the  indestructible  foundation  of  the  Prophets 
and  the  Apostles,  whereon  they  rest,  the  chief  corner-stone  being  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

Before  the  coming  of  Christ,  every  religion  was,  to  some  extent, 
incoi-porated  with  the  established  government.  The  system  of  Pagan- 
ism was  altogether  civil,  and  the  day  came  at  length  when  the  office 
of  the  priest  was  identified  with  that  of  emperor.  The  religion  of 
Moses  was  blended  with  his  civil  polity,  and  without  undergoing  the 


340 

ceremony  of  religious  initiation  by  the  seal  of  circumcision,  no  man 
could  be  affiliated  to  the  Jewish  nation. 

But  the  religion  of  our  Eedeem.er  was  linked  with  the  fortunes  of 
no  nation,  nor  was  it  connected  with  any  special  form  of  govern- 
ment. That  religion  was  circumscribed  by  no  national  boundaries, 
no  conditions  of  race,  for  it  was  suited  to  every  climate,  every  coun- 
try, every  state  of  improvement,  and  adapted  to  all  the  ages  of  the 
world.  That  religion,  finally,  pleads  no  peculiar  privileges,  asks  for 
no  exemptions,  for  any  rank  or  order  of  society,  but  demands,  as  a 
God-given  right,  liberty  to  extend  its  dominion,  and  sow  the  good 
seed  of  the  Gospel  over  the  wide  field  of  the  world.  In  one  word, 
that  religion  is  designed  to  be  universal,  indefectible,  and  immortal. 
It  has  its  rudiments  here,  but  its  perfection  hereafter.  Its  innumer- 
able subjects  are  only  a  distant  colony  of  a  great  and  mighty  empire, 
now  planted  where  their  loyalty  is  in  perpetual  probation,  but  one 
day — the  day  of  the  harvest,  when  wheat  and  tares  shall  be  plucked 
and  separated — to  be  translated  to  the  parent  country,  that  blessed 
clime  where  the  citizens  of  the  kingdom  shall  behold  the  King  in 
the  realm  of  His  beauty,  and  shall  stand,  as  the  angels  stand,  in  the 
shining  presence  of  the  Prince  of  Peace,  the  immoi-tal  and  invis- 
ible King  of  ages,  to  whom  be  honor  and  power  and  glory  and 
benediction  and  praise  and  empire  forever  and  ever. 

The  Kingdom  of  Jesus  Christ  is  a  kingdom  of  peace  because  it 
is  celestial  in  its  origin,  and  divine  in  its  destiny. 

In  that  memorable  day  when  the  Lord  God  of  Hosts  began  to 
upbuild  His  kingdom,  which  should  never  pass  away,  the  gates  of 
the  temple  were  shut,  and  the  world  was  reposing  in  universal 
peace.  His  spiritual  kingdom,  ushered  from  the  skies,  is  introduced 
upon  the  earth,  and  the  states  and  empires  of  the  world  are  undis- 
turbed, for  He  i3ame  not  in  the  dread  robes  of  might  and  splendor, 
but  in  the  swaddling  bands  of  weak  and  helpless  infancy.  In  an 
humble  village  of  Judea,  an  inconsiderable  province  of  the  Roman 
Empire,  angels,  in  the  stillness  of  the  midnight,  announced  to  poor 
and  humble  shepherds  the  birth  of  the  Prince  of  Peace  by  the  song 
of  peace  and  good-will  to  men  on  earth. 

If  we  trace  the  history  of  the  establishment  of  this  kingdom  after 
the  death  of  its  divine  Founder,  we  discover  no  political  pretensions, 
and   no   attempt  at   temporal   aggrandizement.     The   forlorn   and 


341 

sorrowing  disciples  courted  not  the  powerful,  nor  flattered  the  great 
of  earth  for  the  favors  granted  to  the  fawning,  nor  did  they 
gather  under  the  shadow  of  darkness  to  perfect  plans  to  avenge  the 
murder  of  their  beloved  Master,  and  thus  by  exciting  tumult  and 
sedition  seek  to  plant  the  cross  upon  the  ruins  of  the  empire.  These 
methods,  indeed,  could  not  claim  even  a  probabihty  of  success,  but 
even  if  they  were  warranted  the  apostles  would  not  have  chosen 
them.  Christ  came  not  to  conquer  the  world  by  violence,  craft,  or 
servility.  Ah !  no  ;  it  was  the  untaught  eloquence  of  Peter,  the 
persuasive  simplicity  of  John,  the  steadfastness  and  devotion  of  the 
sons  of  Zebedee,  and  the  zeal,  the  learning,  and  the  sympathy  of  St. 
Paul,  that  furnished  the  powerful  arm^  employed  to  extend  the  do- 
minions of  the  Crucified,  to  spread  the  triumphs  of  the  cross,  to 
uptear  the  citadels  of  vice  and  error,  to  vanquish  the  lusts  and 
passions  as  well  as  the  hide-bound  prejudices  of  a  proud  but  en- 
lightened age  and  a  stubborn  and  stiff-necked  people.  The  heavenly 
character  of  the  doctrines  which  they  taught ;  the  purity  and  holiness 
of  the  lives  they  lived  ;  the  courage,  the  fortitude,  and  the  resolution 
of  their  conduct  in  the  face  of  power  and  arrogance — these  were  the 
only  weapons  relied  upon  by  the  first  heralds  of  the  Gospel  to  subdue 
a  hostile  and  perverse  world,  and  bring  it  to  the  feet  of  their  Master, 
Jesus  Christ. 

The  Kingdom  of  Heaven  or  the  Church  of  Christ  was  broad 
enough  to  embrace  the  world,  the  slave  at  his  task,  and  the  emperor 
on  his  throne.  It  compelled  not  the  one  to  break  his  fetters,  nor  the 
other  to  cast  away  his  crown.  It  wrought  no  change  in  men's  civil 
relations  ;  it  neither  absolved  them  from  allegiance,  nor  invaded 
their  freedom  ;  and  although  the  makers  of  Diana's  silver  shrines 
might  have  cause  for  complaint,  Caesar  had  no  reason  for  alarm,  and 
no  plea  to  persecute.  It  asked  only  for  liberty  ;  it  gave  peace  in  re- 
turn, but,  like  its  heavenly  Founder,  it  encountered  the  most  violent 
persecutions  that  the  powers  of  hell  could  devise.  Yet,  while  the 
temples  of  Christ  were  burning,  the  sanctuary  in  the  heart  was  un- 
touched ;  and  when  His  followers  were  led  to  the  stake.  His  subjects 
were  multiplied,  and  Christianity  flourished  though  its  sacred  rites 
were  suppressed  and  its  altars  trodden  under  the  foot  of  inexorable 
power.  So  shall  it  be  unto  the  end,  for  this  kingdom  can  never 
pass  away. 


342 

This  kingdom  will  endure  when  the  present  dynasties,  nay,  all  the 
states  and  empires  of  the  world,  have  decayed  and  passed  down 
the  stream  of  Time,  far  beyond  all  human  recollection,  "  She  has 
seen,"  as  Macaulay  says,  "  the  rise  of  them  all,"  and  there  is  every 
reason  to  believe  that  she  shall  see  their  end.  AVhere  now  are  all 
those  potent  forces  once  arrayed  against  her,  and  bent  on  her  de- 
struction ?  Where  is  now  the  haughty  Hebrew  State,  which  beheld 
her  growth  with  jealousy  and  envy,  and  which  sought  in  \ain  to 
crush  the  infant  Church  ?  Where  is  now  that  dazzling  Roman  Em- 
pire, which  overspread  the  earth,  composed  of  so  many  mighty 
nations,  in  the  midst  of  which  Christianity  sprung  up  like  a  tender 
shoot  among  a  forest  of  aged^  and  lofty  trees,  which  have  since  de- 
cayed and  fallen  around  it,  but  have  left  it  tall,  spreading,  and  vig- 
orous, on  the  very  sj^ot  of  its  origin,  and  of  their  decline  ?  They 
have  fallen !  They  have  fallen,  but  Christianity  has  not  fallen,  be- 
cause it  is  founded  upon  a  rock.  Where  is  the  long  train  of  perse- 
cuting emperors  who  wasted  their  resources,  and  exhausted  their 
endeavors  in  exterminating  the  meek  and  humble  followers  of 
Christ?  And  where  are  those  civil  powers  which  assailed  the  fabric 
of  religion  with  j5re  and  sword,  with  fleets  and  armies,  and  with 
such  prodigious  slaughter,  that  the  red  blood  of  her  martyrs  has 
sprinkled  the  whole  face  of  the  earth  ?  They  have  fallen,  but  the 
Church  has  not  fallen,  because  it  is  built  upon  a  rock.  "  And  Jesus 
said  to  His  disciples  :  *  Whom  do  men  say  that  I  am  ? '  And  Peter 
answered,  'Thoa  art  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  the  living  God.'  And 
Jesus  said,  'Blessed  art  thou,  Simon  Barjona,  because  flesh  and 
blood  hath  not  revealed  this  to  thee,  but  my  Father,  who  is  in 
heaven.'  Fear  not,  little  flock,  for  it  has  pleased  your  Father  to 
give  to  you  a  kingdom  which  can  never  be  destroyed."  Ah !  no, 
my  brethren,  the  handiwork  of  God  can  never  crumble  down.  The 
temple  of  the  Ahnighty  can  never  topple  over.  The  thunders  of 
oppression  may  roar  around  it,  and  the  lightnings  of  persecution 
strike  against  it  ;  and  the  wild  storms  of  hate  and  calumny  and  re- 
proach may  sweep  and  lash  it  from  turret  to  foundation-stone,  and 
the  hot  flames  of  hell,  upspringing  from  damnation's  depths,  may 
seethe  and  rage  around  it,  but  the  rock-built  holy  Catholic  Church 
of  God  can  never  fear  and  never  fail,  for  the  words  of  Jesus  Christ 
and  the  works  of  Jesus  Christ  can  never  pass  away. 


343 

Not  all  who  claim  to  be  Christians  are  members  of  this  kingdom. 
Not  all  who  believe  in  the  force  of  the  Gospel,  yield  obedience  to 
the  law  of  the  Gospel ;  not  all  who  profess  the  name,  carry  the  yoke 
of  Jesus  Christ.  'Tis  not  enough  to  have  been  born  and  lived  a  life 
within  the  outward  pale  of  Christianity  ;  to  have  been  baptized  in 
infancy  and  confirmed  in  childhood  ;  to  have  walked  in  the  shadow 
of  the  Sanctuary,  borne  the  sacred  vessels  of  the  Altar,  and  worn 
the  insignia  of  the  Christian  profession  ;  to  have  been  a  martyr  to 
self-imposed  fasts  and  flagellations,  been  addicted  to  prolix  formu- 
laries of  prayer  and  ceremony,  and  to  have  worn  the  very  threshold 
of  the  door  by  fidelity  of  attendance  at  the  external  observances  of 
religion — all  these,  without  puiity  of  purpose  and  rectitude  of  con- 
science, are  insufficient  to  constitute  men  true  members  of  the 
kingdom  of  the  Lord  Christ  Jesus.  Not  merely  the  lips,  but  the 
heart  as  well,  and  more  especially,  can  pay  worthy  tribute  of  praise 
and  devotion  to  the  Lord.  An  humble  and  a  contrite  heart  is  of 
more  value  than  the  incense  of  holocausts. 

The  first  victory  which  the  Gospel  gains  should  be  over  the  em- 
pire of  our  hearts  ;  for  not  every  one  that  saith  "  Lord,  Lord,"  shall 
enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  No  ;  for  when  once  the  Master 
of  the  house  hath  risen  up  and  shut  the  door,  though  many  standing 
without  will  begin  to  knock,  and  will  say,  '*  Lord,  Lord,  open  unto 
us,"  He  will  say :  "  I  know  you  not  whence  you  are."  Then  will 
they  begin  to  say  :  "  We  have  eaten  and  drunk  in  Thy  presence,  and 
Thou  hast  spoken  on  our  streets."  But  He  wiU  answer  :  "  I  teU  you 
again,  I  know  you  not  whence  you  are.  Depart  from  me,  ye  workers 
of  iniquity.  For  there  will  come  from  the  East  and  from  the  West, 
and  from  the  North  and  from  the  South,  many  who  wiU  sit  down  at 
the  table  in  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  the  childi'en  of  the  kingdom 
shall  be  cast  out  into  exterior  darkness,  where  they  shall  eternally 
bum,  eternally  weep,  and  gnash  their  teeth  in  despair." 

"  My  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world,"  says  our  Saviour.  But  are  we 
not  of  this  world?  and  when  we  are  summoned,  as  soon  we  must  be, 
to  leave  it,  shall  we  unhappily  feel  as  if  we  were  quitting  in  exile,  a 
land  where  aU  our  hopes  and  pleasures  are  centered  ?  God  grant  it 
be  not  so.  God  grant  we  may  so  understand  and  heed  our  Saviour's 
words,  that  heaven  may  prove  our  native  soil,  the  abode  of  our 
friends  and  our  parent  country,  where  an  abundant  welcome  will 


344 

be  administered  to  us  through  the  name  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ. 

The  kingdom  of  Christ,  my  brethren,  is  not  of  the  world,  but  it  is 
in  the  world,  and  it  is  here  for  war. 

The  great  Captain  of  salvation  Himself  assures  us  that  He  came 
to  send,  not  peace,  but  a  sword,  upon  the  earth.  The  kingdom  of 
heaven  is  like  to  a  man  who  sowed  good  seed  in  his  field,  but  that 
same  field  the  enemy  has  overcast  with  thorns  and  tares.  As  it  was 
from  the  beginning,  so  shall  there  be,  until  the  angel  reapers  come 
to  glean  the  harvest  on  the  day  of  judgment,  sowers  of  wheat  and 
sowers  of  cockle  in  the  field  of  Christ's  everlasting  kingdom.  From 
the  day  that  the  serpent  of  old  time  sowed  the  seeds  of  sin  in  the 
human  heart,  two  hostile  camps,  planting  themselves  upon  the 
ancient  battle-lines,  first  marked  around  the  very  battlements  of 
God,  have  contended  for  the  possession  of  the  field.  On  that  day 
began  the  deadly  struggle  which  has  raged  with  unabated  fury  for 
sixty  centuries,  which  is  raging  still,  and  not  yet  closed.  Hearken, 
soldiers  of  the  Saviour,  to  the  tocsin's  ringing  peals.  See  the  tall 
plumes  bending  in  the  breeze,  and  the  shining  armor  glittering  in. 
the  sun,  as  the  long  lines  are  drawn  up  in  battle-array,  terrible  in 
the  "pomp  and  circumstance  of  war."  Hear  the  clash  and  clangor 
of  the  opposing  arms  as  the  ranks  rush  together  in  the  awful  conflict. 
The  ground  seems  to  heave  beneath  their  tread,  and  the  rocks  reel 
around  them,  and  the  earth  groans  under  the  artillery  fire  of  hell, 
and  from  the  vivid  lightnings  of  the  heavens  flash  forth  the  scorch- 
ing fires  of  God,  while  resonant  above  the  roar  of  the  blood-raining 
storm,  is  heard  the  voice  of  Lucifer  calling  from  the  deep,  across 
"  multitudinous  seas  incarnadine  "  as  he  marshals  his  serried  ranks 
against  the  Lord  God  of  Hosts,  and  thus  addresses  them  : 

' '  Princes,  potentates,  and  warriors  ! 
Tlie  flower  of  heaven  once  yours,  now  lost, 
If  such  astonishment  as  this  can  seize 
Eternal  spirits  :  or  have  ye  chosen  this  place 
After  the  toil  of  battle  to  repose  your  weary  virtue 
For  the  ease  you  find  to  slumber  here. 
As  in  the  vales  of  Heaven 
Or  in  this  abject  posture  have  you  sworn, 
To  adore  the  Conqueror  who  now 
Beholds  Cherub  and  Seraph  rolling  in  the  flood 


345 

With  scattered  arms  and  ensigns,  till  anon 
His  pursuers,  from  heaven's  gates  discern 
The  advantage,  and  descending  tread  us  down 
Thus  drooping  ;  or  with  linked  thunderbolts 
Transfix  us  to  the  bottom  of  this  gulf  ; 
Awake  !  Arise  !  or  be  forever  fallen  ! " 

And  from  that  hour,  when  the  first-born  of  Light,  swelling  with 
the  idea  of  his  own  grandeur,  declared  war  upon  the  Jehovah  of  the 
heavens,  how  many  of  the  spawn  of  perdition  have  sprung  up  to 
ravage  the  field  of  God's  kingdom,  to  desecrate  the  divine  worship, 
and  desolate  the  Church  of  God. 

The  ancient  mythology  pandered  to  the  base  and  carnal  passions 
of  man,  but  embalmed,  as  it  is,  with  the  perfume  of  poetry,  and  ar- 
rayed in  the  artistic  beauty  of  the  flowers  of  fancy,  the  remains  of 
classical  antiquity  can  supply  no  just  conception  of  the  depravity  and 
degradation  of  those  idolatries  with  which  Satan  dazzled  and  fascinat- 
ed his  deluded  followers.  For  confounding  God  wdth  the  works  of  His 
hands,  there  w^ere,  from  the  very  morning-time  of  creation,  "vain 
men,  who  professing  themselves  to  be  wise,  became  fools,  and 
changed  the  truth  of  God  into  a  lie;  and  worshipped  and  serv^ed  the 
creature,  rather  than  the  Creator,  who  is  blessed  forever."  In  vain 
the  Almighty  in  His  anger  rained  punishments  upon  them,  and  sent 
His  prophets  to  denounce  vengeance  against  their  diabolical  deeds. 
The  insensate  people  remained  incorrigible;  they  deserted  the  ban- 
ners of  the  Most  High,  forsook  the  God  of  their  fathers,  and  burned 
incense  to  Baal  in  the  city  of  Jerusalem,  in  view  of  the  sacred  fane 
which  the  magnificence  of  Solomon  had  dedicated  to  the  Lord  God 
of  Israel. 

In  every  nation  the  vice-bound  votaries  of  the  Evil  One  bent  the 
knee  before  abominable  idols;  mortal  men,  in  overweening  pride, 
arrogated  to  themselves  divine  honors,  like  some  of  the  Assyrian 
kings  and  the  long  line  of  Koman  emperors;  and  others,  grovelling 
on  the  ground,  "  changed  the  glory  of  the  incorruptible  God  into 
the  likeness  of  corifuptible  man,  and  of  birds,  and  of  beasts,  and 
creeping  things  *'  To  no  purpose  were  the  flood-gates  of  the  eternal 
deep  opened  to  submerge  the  wicked  in  a  might}' flood;  in  vain  were 
the  devouring  fires  poured  out  upon  them;  in  vain  did  the  Lord 
stand  upon  the  flaming  mountain,  amid  the  forked  lightnings  and  the 


346 

roaring  thunders;  the  mad  multitude  danced  deliriously  around  the 
golden  calf,  ere  the  reverberating  echoes  of  His  presence  had  faded 
away  among  the  hills  beyond  Sinai.  Solomon,  the  wisest,  himself 
fell  into  the  toils  of  the  idolaters,  and  many  of  the  Jewish  kings 
called  in  magicians  to  offer  incense  to  the  sun  and  to  the  moon  and 
to  the  silent  stars,  and  to  the  twelve  signs,  and  all  the  varied  hosts 
of  heaven. 

Rome,  the  mistress  of  the  earth,  was  as  noted  for  idolatries  as  she 
was  conspicuous  for  her  conquests,  and  when  she  had  completed  the 
subjugation  of  the  nations  her  imposing  Pantheon  contained  within 
its  confines  gods  of  gold,  and  gods  of  brass,  and  gods  of  silver,  run- 
ning into  thousands.  The  Rome  of  the  great  Csesars  contained  a 
thousand  temples,  and  in  every  quarter  of  the  seven-hilled  city,  in 
the  Forum,  in  the  Coliseum,  and  even  on  the  highways,  the  smoke 
of  sacrifice  ascended;  and  Diana's  silver  shrines  and  sylvan  fanes 
rang  loud  with  the  piteous  cry  of  the  helpless  victim,  and  the  in- 
censed and  garlanded  altar  was  crimsoned  with  the  blood  of  human 
holocausts.  The  lewd  votaries  of  Venus,  the  brutal  bacchanals,  and 
the  riotous  bands  of  Epicurean  revellers,  practiced  shameful  obscen- 
ities, as  shown  in  the  history  of  the  Lupercalian,  Saturnalian,  and 
Elusinian  rites.  The  sages  of  the  Areopagus  ventured  to  inscribe  a 
temple  "  to  the  unknown  God,"  but  they  defaced  their  worship  with 
the  most  debasing  superstitions;  and  if  some  of  the  Academicians 
were  persuaded  of  the  unity  and  spirituality  of  God,  they  dared  not 
explicitly  proclaim  the  doctrines  they  believed;  while  the  venerable 
Socrates,  paganism's  proudest  sage,  before  he  drained  the  fatal  hem- 
lock, sought  by  the  sacrifice  of  a  bii'd  to  propitiate  the  godship  of 
Esculapius. 

Ignoring  the  unimpeachable  testimonies  of  Nature,  they  beheld 
not  in  the  summer  breeze,  and  in  the  starry  sky,  and  in  the  songful 
grove,  as  those  who  are  a  law  unto  themselves  should  do,  the  God 
"  who  made  the  heavens  and  the  earth  and  all  things  that  are  in 
them." 

"For  the  groves  were  God's  temples,  ere  maf  learned 
To  hew  the  shaft  and  lay  the  architrave, 
And  spread  the  roof  above  them  ere  he  framed 
The  lofty  vault,  to  gather  and  roll  back 
The  sound  of  anthems,  in  the  mountain  wood: 
Amidst  the  cool  and  silence  he  knelt  down, 


347 

And  offered  to  the  Mightiest  most  solemn  thanks 
And  supplications." 

But  no;  they  beheld  not  in  Nature's  mirror  the  face  of  Nature's  God, 
because  they  loved  darkness  rather  than  light,  their  intellects  were 
obscured  by  the  mists  of  sin  and  ignorance,  and  they  forgot  how 
honorable  it  is  "  to  publish  the  Lord's  signs,  because  they  are  great, 
and  His  wonders  because  they  are  mighty;  to  seek  His  kingdom  be- 
cause it  is  everlasting,  and  to  magnify  His  power  which  extends  to 
all  generations." 

"  For  He  who  guides  the  swelling  orbs  above, 
'  Spreads  every  leaf  that  flutters  in  the  grove; 
Breathes  health  and  fragrance  in  each  balmy  gale, 
Pours  the  clear  streamlet  gliding  in  the  vale; 
Extends  the  vast  Atlantic's  rolling  floods, 
And  clothes  the  forest  with  its  waving  woods. 
Guides  the  green  tendril  'round  the  shady  bower; 
Shines  in  the  dew  and  blushes  in  the  flower. 
The  humblest  bud  that  blossoms  in  the  morn, 
The  meanest  insect  in  its  bosom  born, 
Live  by  the  flat  of  that  Mighty  voice. 
Which  rules  th,e  spheres  and  makes  the  world  rejoice." 

Despite  the  voice  of  Nature  and  the  volume  of  revelation,  anterior 
to  Christ's  coming,  as  Bossuet  says,  "  idolatry  sat  brooding  over  the 
moral  world;  the  Egyptian  fathers  of  philosophy,  and  the  Grecian 
inventors  of  fine  arts,  and  the  Roman  conquerors  of  the  world,  were 
all  notorious  for  their  perversion  of  divine  worship,  for  the  gross 
error  of  their  beliefs,  and  for  the  indignities  they  offered  to  the  true 
religion."  The  fair  field  of  Christ's  kingdom  was  over-sown  with 
cockle,  and  the  whole  world  was  a  temple  "  where  everything  was 
God  but  God  Himself." 

To  renew  the  face  of  the  earth  and  redeem  man  from  the  slavery 
of  error  and  superstition,  and  restore  to  him  his  lost  inheritance, 
Jesus  Christ  appeared,  and  man  is  guilty  of  his  masterpiece  of  folly 
in  the  crucifixion  of  his  Saviour.  And  still  the  struggle  went  on. 
Not  till  after  ten  long  and  violent  persecutions,  extending  through 
three  blood-written  centuries,  did  the  persecuted  followers  of  the 
Nazarene  emerge  from  the  gloomy  shelter  of  the  catacombs,  and  only 
when  the  first  Christian  emperor,  Constantine,  ascended  the  impe- 


348 

rial  throne  was  the  cross  planted  in  the  halls  of  the  Caesars,  and  an- 
cient Kome  crowned  with  undying  dignity  as  the  capital  of  Christen- 
dom. 

Nor  was  the  end  yet. 

Heresy  raised  its  hydra-head  in  the  kingdom  of  the  Lord,  and 
there  came  forth  those  "who  spoke  not  according  to  the  word,  be- 
cause there  was  no  light  in  them."  Some  declared  that  the  founder 
of  the  kingdom  was  but  human,  like  the  rest  of  men;  others  denied 
the  agency  of  God's  providence,  and  like  the  olden  Sophists  affirmed 
that  all  things  were  governed  by  blind  fate  or  chance,  and  that  the 
world  itself  was  but  an  accidental  medley  of  atoms,  whirling  about 
by  its  own  motion  in  the  chaotic  abyss  of  illimitable  space.  But  the 
climax  was  to  come. 

Crazed  by  the  riotous  fury  of  fearful  revolution,  delirious  states- 
men affected  to  ignore  entirely  the  existence  of  a  God,  and  com- 
pelled the  teachers  of  the  nation  to  inculcate  the  baleful  tenets  of  in- 
fidelity into  the  minds  of  the  rising  generations.  They  abohshed  the 
festivals  of  Christ's  religion;  proscribed  His  worship,  and  banished 
or  guillotined  the  ministers  of  His  religion.  Pagan  mummery  was 
substituted  for  Catholic  ceremony,  and  the  ritual  of  Satan  for  the 
sweet  religion  of  a  divine  Eedeemer,  and  the  most  shocking  indig- 
nities and  blasphemies  were  daily  offered  to  the  Majesty  of  the  Most 
High  God.  In  a  paroxysm  of  frenzy  men  went  so  far  as  to  choose  a 
prostitute  for  the  goddess  of  liberty  and  the  queen  of  reason.  O 
Reason,  what  follies  are  committed  in  thy  name. 

'  *  Dim  as  the  borrowed  beams  of  moon  and  stars. 
To  lonely,  weary,  wandering  travellers. 
Is  reason  to  the  soul ;  and  as  on  high, 
Those  rolling  orbs  discover  but  the  sky, 
Not  light  us  there;  so  reason's  glimmering  ray 
Was  lent,  not  to  assure  our  doubtful  way, 
But  to  guide  us  upward  to  a  better  day. 
And  as  those  nightly  tapers  disappear 
When  day's  bright  lord  ascends  on  hemisphere, 
So,  pale  grows  reason,  at  religion's  sight, 
So  dies,  and  so  dissolves  in  supernatural  light," 

To-day  the  conflict  rages  on  the  old  battle-ground.  It  is  the 
everlasting  struggle  of  faith  and  infidelity.     They  vainly  boast  that 


349 

the  old  religion  is  in  the  throes  of  dissolution,  and  will  soon  be  dead. 
The  seeds  of  superstition,  they  tell  us,  are  uprooted  from  the  soil, 
and  the  very  shadow  of  religion  is  fast  fading  from  the  land,  her 
name,  her  nature,  withering  from  the  world.  Right  at  our  doors 
madcap  anarchists  and  atheists  laugh  the  Christian  God  to  scorn, 
and  on  the  free  shores  of  the  New  Republic,  societies  and  journals 
advocating,  unblushingly,  the  ruin  of  religion,  flourish  in  full-blown 
enormity.  There  are  thirty  millions  of  unbelievers  in  the  United 
States  to-day  ;  thirty  millions  of  scoffers  ;  thirty  millions  of  scorners  ; 
thirty  millions  of  blatant  blasphemers  of  the  eternal  God.  Is  the 
enemy  gaining  ground  ?  Is  the  enemy  to  hold  the  inheritance,  to 
possess  the  blood-bought  field  which  Jesus,  the  holy  Christ  of  God, 
has  purchased  for  His  children  ?  God  forbid.  But  the  sentinels  of 
Israel  must  stand  at  the  outposts  and  on  the  watch-towers  of  religion, 
aggressive  and  alert.  Truth's  defenders  must  take  to  their  arms, 
and  rally  round  the  cross.  In  the  cross  shall  they  conquer  ;  in  the 
cross  shall  they  find  salvation.  "Let  Jonas  rejoice  in  his  plant  of 
ivy;  let  Abraham  prepare  a  feast  for  angels  beneath  the  tree  of  Mamre  ; 
let  Ishmael  moan  by  his  palm-tree  in  the  desert  ;  let  Elias  repose  near 
a  juniper  in  the  wilderness  ;  but  let  it  be  our  glory,  as  Christians, 
to  dwell  under  the  umbrageous  shadow  of  the  cross  " 

What  shall  the  issue  be  on  the  soil  of  America  ? 

We  stand  at  the  doorway  of  the  centuries.  Down  the  long  arch- 
way of  the  rolling  years  we  behold  forty  generations  of  our  fathers 
in  the  faith  ;  ai'ound  us  the  heritage  they  have  transmitted  to  their 
posterity  in  Christ,  and  before  us  lies  the  land  to  be  possessed. 

Almighty  Father,  while  we  cling 

To  our  crumbling  hold,  so  soon  to  fall, 

And  be  forgotten  in  the  yawning  gulf, 

Which  whelms  all  past,  all  present,  and  to  come, 

Oh,  grant  us  wisdom  of  the  soul 

To  gain  a  changeless  heritage. 

But  ere  we  gain  the  goal  we  have  a  work  to  do.  The  enemy  is 
abroad  sowing  cockle  in  the  field.  Be  not  cast  down  at  the  sight  of 
the  cockle,  for  the  day  of  the  harvest  shall  come,  when  a  strong  and 
smiting  hand  shall  pluck  up  the  tares,  shall  bring  down  the  arro- 
gance of  the  mighty  and  make  the  pride  of  unbelievers  cease.  Shall 
we  sleep  the  sleep  of  ^indolence  and  inaction,  or  shall  we  rise  be- 


350 

times  and  ^o  in  and  possess  the  land  which  the  God  of  dominion 
hath  given  us  in  heritage  ?  "  Every  place  that  the  sole  of  your  foot 
shall  tread  upon  shall  be  yours,  from  the  wilderness  of  Lebanon,  and 
from  the  river  Euphrates,  even  to  the  uttermost  seas,  shall  the  coast 
be  yours."  Let  us  gird  ourselves  for  the  fray,  shod  with  the  prepa- 
ration of  the  Gospel,  and  accoutred  with  the  shield  of  faith  and  the 
well-greased  armor  of  the  Almighty,  and  holding  in  our  good  right 
hand  the  sword  of  the  Spirit  which  is  the  word  of  God.  The  in- 
vincible, the  unconquerable,  and  the  indestructible  God,  the  victor 
in  ten  thousand  battles,  goes  before  us  and  leads  the  way  to  victory. 
Let  us  not  by  cowardly  irresolution  and  fatuous  disobedience  dwarf 
our  inheritance  and  destroy  our  hopes.  We  have  an  inheritance  to 
gain  ;  we  have  a  mission  to  fulfill ;  we  are  not,  like  the  Jews  of  old, 
merely  the  conservators,  but  we  are  the  teachers  of  truth  unto  men. 
In  proportion  as  our  zeal  is  abundant,  is  our  own  knowledge  of  the 
truth  enlarged,  our  faith  in  God  strengthened,  and  our  religious 
life  intensified  and  consolidated. 

Ages  ago  the  tide  of  humanity  divided  into  counter  currents, 
which  to-day  form  the  contending  civilizations  of  the  world.  One 
capital  cuiTent,  rising  at  Mt.  Ararat,  took  an  Eastern  course,  through 
China,  Japan,  and  the  Moluccas,  and  stretching  one  tiny  tendril 
across  Arctic  snows  and  ice,  it  took  root  in  America  in  the  dim 
mysterious  past.  That  it  reached  the  shores  of  this  continent  from 
China  seems  to  be  confirmed  by  those  researches  which  trace  the 
American  Indians  to  a  Mongolian  origin.  It  is  a  stagnant,  unpro- 
gressive  civilization,  covered  with  the  moss-crowned  immobility  of 
ages  which  the  consecration  of  centuries  has  failed  to  alter  or  im- 
prove. The  other  stream  went  a  Westward  way,  to  the  frontiers  of 
Asia,  down  the  Mediterranean,  across  Italy,  Iberia,  and  Germany,  to 
the  British  Islands  and  the  Northern  peninsula  of  Euroj)e,  gathering 
up  the  culture  and  refinement  of  centuries  on  its  way,  and  after 
great  mutations  and  many  almost  insuperable  obstacles,  it  still  flows 
on  with  undiminished  vigor,  and  exhibits  in  its  marvellous  progress 
the  wonderful  power  of  Christ's  religion  in  moulding  the  manners, 
purifying  the  morals,  and  guiding  the  destinies  of  men.  To  its  in- 
fluence every  government  of  modern  Europe  owes  its  origin  and  its 
stability.  It  laid  the  basis  of  the  arts  and  sciences,  the  laws  and  in- 
stitutions, which  opened  an  unobsti-ucted  path  to  the  prosperity  and 


351 

progress  of  the  great  powers  which  now  determine  the  destiny  and 
hold  in  their  hands  the  fate  of  evei-y  nation  on  the  continent  of 
Europe.  It  finally  swept  across  the  Atlantic  upon  voyages  of  dis- 
covery ;  broke  down  all  opposing  barriers  over  three  thousand  miles 
of  continent,  and  now,  having  traversed  the  eai-th,  it  encounters  the 
Oriental  civilization  on  the  shores  of  the  Pacific,  as  changeless  and 
unchanged  as  it  was  in  the  dim  twilight  of  history.  "What  shall  be  the 
result  when  these  streams  meet  and  mingle  with  each  other  ?  Which 
band  of  civilization  is  to  encircle  the  green  globe  ?  Will  the  world 
go  back  to  pagan  rites,  pagan  customs,  pagan  superstitions,  or  will 
the  grace  of  the  all-conquering  Gospel  relume  the  darkness  of  the 
East  and  claim  her  benighted  millions  for  God  ? 

I  believe  the  key  to  the  situation  will  be  found  upon  American 
soil  I  believe  that  the  religion  that  rules  America  will  nile  the 
world,  and  I  believe  that  that  religion  will  be  the  religion  of  Kome, 
the  religion  of  Peter,  the  religion  of  Jesus  Christ.  I  repeat,  we 
have  a  mission  to  fulfill.  Against  every  onslaught  of  the  enemy,  we 
have  to  hold  the  field  for  Christ.  Our  confines  are  conterminable 
with  the  circumference  of  the  globe.  The  land  will  be  ours  if,  like 
Abraham  and  Moses  and  Israel,  we  raise  our  tents,  and  go  in  and 
take  possession.  God  helps  those  who  help  themselves.  Our  op- 
portunities to  impress  the  truth  are  abundant,  and  we  have  the 
truth  to  impress. 

Under  the  old  dispensation  the  peculiar  province  of  God*s  chosen 
people  was  to  conserve  the  truth  till  the  day  of  Christ  should  come. 
Jesus  was  promised  then,  but  He  is  present  now,  and  those  who 
work  by  Him  are  in'esistible  in  power.  Belief  in  the  divinity  of 
Christ  alone  can  keep  alive  the  sentiment  of  religion  in  the  human 
heart,  and  when  this  fades  away,  so  too  does  all  belief  in  the  person- 
ality of  God.  The  sin  of  the  present  age  is  the  sin  of  Adam — the 
sin  of  unbelief. 

To  confound  God  with  nature,  or  to  spii'it  Him  away  in  the  gauzy 
clouds  of  sentiment,  or  the  fantastic  conceptions  of  transcendental 
philosophy,  is  the  tendency  of  the  times,  and  the  idea  of  that  God 
"  in  whom  we  live  and  move  and  have  our  being,"  who  numbers  all 
the  hours  of  our  life  and  holds  us  in  the  hollow  of  His  hand,  has 
become  but  a  vague  and  airy  abstraction  which  no  longer  guides  our 
knowledge  or  sustains  our  life.     The  pantheism  of  the  past-  is  be- 


852 

come  the  agnosticism  of  the  present.  It  infects  science;  pollutes 
literature;  gives  a  deadly  glitter  to  philosophy;  points  the  epigram; 
gives  frenzy  to  the  poet's  fancy  and  madness  to  the  painter's  magic 
skill;  and  entering  the  field  of  morals,  where  Jesus  Christ  sowed  good 
seed,  it  severs  man  from  all  his  spiritual  relations;  makes  man  his 
own  actor,  the  world  his  theatre,  mammon  his  god,  and  perdition  his 
portion  and  inheritance. 

We  stand  to-day  on  the  old  battle-ground.  It  is  the  Philistines 
against  the  children  of  Israel.  The  doctrine  of  a  real,  living,  per- 
sonal God  is  the  sole  salvation  for  society;  and  all  believers  in  the 
Christian  name  should  join  hands  against  the  common  enemy,  and 
uphold  with  all  their  power  and  all  their  strength  the  blood-bought 
banners  of  loyalty  to  God  and  the  Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

The  true  test  of  religion  is  its  power  of  reproduction.  We  are 
not  merely  the  custodians  of  truth;  we  are  its  sowers  and  planters. 
While  we  sleep  the  enemy  sows  tares.  We  must  stoop  down  to 
reach  the  people;  go  out  to  call  them  in.  "  The  poor  shall  have  the 
Gospel  preached  to  them."  We  are  not  peddlers  of  theological  grain. 
We  are  not  to  scatter  truth  on  people  and  then  let  it  perchance  take 
root  and  grow.  We  are  to  carefully  plant  and  nourish  it  in  their 
souls. 

Unfertile  piety  is  a  sham — a  curse.  It  is  a  byword  for  the  scoff- 
ing and  a  hissing  for  the  infidel.  To  abound  in  fine  words,  in  doc- 
trines and  authorities,  but  to  yield  no  practical  life  by  which  sin- 
worn  wayfarers  can  quench  their  spiritual  thirsfc,  is  to  cumber  the 
earth  and  be  a  rock  of  offence  to  everybody.  Unless  our  creeds  fer- 
tilize the  world,  and  our  lives  furnish  meat  and  drink  to  mankind, 
the  curse  of  barrenness  will  fall  upon  us  as  it  did  upon  the  withered 
fig-tree.  "  My  meat  and  drink  is  to  do  the  will  of  Him  who  sent 
Me."  We  must  live  our  truth  in  our  lives.  Words  preach,  but  lives 
teach;  words  prove,  but  lives  move.  The  incarnation  of  religion  are 
the  Saints  of  God.  Holiness  is  the  lever  that  lifts  humanity.  When 
truth  throbs  in  the  marrow  of  the  heart,  it  becomes  vital  and  or- 
ganic. The  ancient  apologetics  are  done  away.  Fruitless  contro- 
versies, barren  speculations,  and  fine,  unprofitable  preaching  can 
never  supply  deai-th  of  spirituality.  Every  flush  of  feeling,  every 
flash  of  intellect,  must  reflect  the  faith  we  hold.  When  the  truth 
glows,  burns,  quivers  in  every  fibre  of  the  human  frame,  then,  and 


353 

not  till  then,  has  it  claim  to  final  victory.  All  can  preach,  because 
all  can  live,  and  if  they  cannot  scale  the  dazzling  heights  where  the 
learned  and  erudite  are  wresthng  with  the  deep  problems  of  life  and 
immortality,  all  can  travel  in  the  valleys  where  grace  fertilizes  the 
soil,  and  where  the  Saints  of  God  are  daily  at  labor  transfoi-ming 
faith  into  fact  and  truth  into  life.  The  sons  of  virtue  shall  possess 
the  soil. 

We  must  also  put  our  life  into  our  literature,  for  literature  is  but 
the  expression  of  Hfe.  Catholics  need  not  blush  for  their  scholar- 
ship, but  we  have  to  excite  greater  activity  if  we  want  to  hold  the 
field.  And  we  are  to  talk  not  only  in  the  language  of  the  scholar, 
but  also  in  common  letters — in  the  alphabet  of  Christianity. 

Education  is  the  want  of  the  age ;  education  is  the  watchword  of 
the  century.  Since  the  day  that  our  forefathers  came  to  this  land, 
they  placed  the  school  side  by  side  with  the  church,  and  if  it  were  a 
question  of  the  relative  importance  of  school  and  church,  they  would 
say,  if  you  take  away  either,  remove  the  church,  and  leave  the 
school  to  our  children.  We  have  not  only  to  keep  pace  with,  but 
surpass,  our  separated  brethi'en.  Remember,  it  is  a  race  for  occu- 
pation. The  question  of  the  hour  is:  Shall  we  fortify  the  field  al- 
ready claimed  by  the  power  of  the  Gospel,  and  shall  we  extend  our 
triumphs  by  the  establishment  of  Christian  schools  and  colleges;  or 
shall  we  suffer  godless  learning  to  snatch  from  oui-  hands  the  fruits 
of  our  hard-bought  victory  ? 

Christian  fathers  and  mothers,  who  Hsten  to  my  voice,  heai-ken  to 
what  I  say  : 

You  have  a  grave  responsibihty  to  perfonn.  We  have  a  glorious 
inheritance  in  this  land  of  the  free.  Our  common  prosperity  is  un- 
exampled, but  it  is  not  beyond  the  reach  of  injury.  If  you  would 
advance  the  renown  of  your  age  and  make  it  worthy  of  remem- 
brance by  those  who  come  after  you,  educate  your  children  in  that 
good  old  faifch  for  which  your  own  fathers  suffered  persecution, 
torture,  and  every  form  of  death.  Consider  how  easily  the  minds 
of  those  who  are  coming  into  life  are  enfeebled  and  deluded  by  the 
unworthy  example  of  those  whom  they  are  taught  to  consider  as 
guiding  their  conduct,  or  giving  tone  to  the  manners  of  the  age. 
In  such  a  state  of  society  as  ours,  there  is  danger  lest  the  love  of 
frivolous  distinctions,  the  pursuit  of  vicious  pleasures,  the  tyranny 
23 


354 

of  fashion,  and  the  greed  of  gold,  should  make  our  children  callous 
and  insensible  to  the  best  gifts  of  Providence,  and  should  ovei-whelm 
the  rising  generation.  To  obviate  these  evils,  the  love  of  intellect- 
ual pursuits  should  be  encouraged,  and,  as  the  passion  of  knowledge 
is  no  proof  of  the  principle  of  virtue,  a  Catholic  education  alone  can 
afford  security  against  the  corruptions  of  the  age,  and  the  vices  and 
temptations  of  the  world.  Everything  contributed  by  you  to  the 
institutions  of  sound  learning,  and  to  promote  a  correct  and  pious 
education,  you  contribute  to  the  peace,  the  purity,  and  the  glory  of 
your  age. 

And  oh !  what  a  treasure  of  felicity  you  have  in  keeping.  Let 
your  thoughts  run  a  few  years  in  prospect,  and  can  you  endure  to 
see  those  whom  jou  have  trained  up  to  fill  your  places,  and  whose 
destiny  you  now  influence,  can  you  endure  to  see  them  spoiling  the 
rich  inheritance,  and  then  reproaching  your  memories  ?  Can  you 
look  without  remorse,  and  see  them  taking  their  places  in  society, 
depraved  by  your  example,  lost. — lost  by  your  neglect,  to  peace,  to 
virtue,  and  to  heaven  ? 

Do  not  think  you  have  discharged  your  obligation  when  you  have 
laid  up  for  them  a  perishable  inheritance  on  earth,  and  set  them  up 
in  life.  Oh !  no  ;  God,  who  watches  over  the  employment  of  His 
gifts,  demands  of  you,  not  only  that  you  dedicate  your  children  to 
Him,  but  that  you  implant  in  them  His  fear  and  love,  that  you 
furnish  them  with  the  only  sure  source  of  happiness,  by  your  re- 
ligious training,  by  your  lessons  of  piety,  by  your  example  at  home 
and  in  public,  and  by  your  prayers  with  them  and  for  them.  With- 
out this  you  may  leave  them  the  wealth  of  the  world,  and  it  will 
only  curse  them  ;  you  may  leave  them  the  rank,  the  glory,  the 
reputation  of  their  fathers,  but  it  will  only  render  them  the  decorated 
victims  of  the  indignation  of  Heaven. 

And  oh !  what  magnificent  opportunities  and  what  glorious  in- 
centives to  education  exist  in  the  Eepablic  of  the  New  World  ; 
opportunities  which,  if  they  be  lost,  may  lose  to  Catholicity  the  vast 
inheritance  so  far  acquired  by  the  piety  and  zeal  of  those  gone  be- 
fore us. 

In  our  favored  land  a  system  of  government  has  been  formed,  of 
singulai-  perfection  and  beauty.  It  is  a  system  that  stimulates  the 
soul  to  activity  ;  fills  the  mind  with  lofty  aspirations ;  moves  the 


355 

liand  to  develop  the  resources  of  the  land,  and  excites  the  ingenuity 
and  enterprise  of  those  who  occupy  it.  Here  it  is  the  hand  of  a 
free  man  that  turns  forth  the  fruits  of  a  free  soil. 

We  have  here  a  banquet  of  intellectual  elevation  and  personal  en- 
joyment, and  we  hold  aloft  the  bright  beacon  of  liberty,  that  Pro- 
methean torch  which  flings  its  scorching  rays  into  the  darkest 
recesses  of  European  dungeons,  melting  the  shackles  of  tyi-anny,  en- 
couraging the  oppressed  and  the  heart-weary,  and  beckoning  them 
on  to  life,  to  liberty,  and  to  freedom.  We  have  reared  a  glorious 
structure,  which  has  become  the  admiration  of  the  nations  ;  we  have 
thrown  open  our  doors  and  invited  the  world  to  come  and  sit  down 
at  our  feast.  We  have  planted  a  garden,  the  fruits  whereof  are 
sweet  to  the  soul  and  grateful  to  the  sense  ;  we  have  flung  open  the 
Arcadian  avenues  leading  thereunto,  that  the  sti'anger  may  freely 
enter  and  partake  of  the  offering. 

To  crown  all,  the  political  perpetuity  of  the  Union  has  been  sealed 
by  the  arbitrament  of  blood.  No  rebellious  hand  shall  again  be 
raised  in  sign  of  its  destruction.  And  now  no  more  the  sound  of 
arms  ;  no  more  the  tramp  of  hostile  columns,  the  crash  of  cannon, 
the  smoke  of  guns,  and  the  din  of  fratricidal  strife  ;  no  more  of  silent 
homes,  funereal  villages,  weeping  widows,  and  wailing  oi*phans  ;  no 
more  of  war,  O  God,  no  more  ; — but  give  us  peace. 

This  sentiment  found  passionate  voice  in  the  Capitol  at  Washing- 
ton when  the  war-scarred  veterans  of  battle  were  returning  to  their 
homes,  flushed  with  victory  and  triumph.  Their  tattered  ensigns 
fluttered  in  the  breeze  ;  their  perforated  flags  floated  from  every  line 
and  column  as  they  moved  along — the  boys  from  Massachusetts, 
and  the  boys  from  Pennsylvania,  and  from  the  Ohio,  the  Wabash, 
and  the  far-off  Missouri.  On  they  went,  rank  to  rank,  column  to 
column,  charger  to  charger,  nostril  to  nostril,  and  from  a  million 
throats  went  up  the  shout, — huzza !  huzza !  huzza ! 

But  are  our  institutions  to  continue,  or  shall  they  suffer  the  fate  of 
the  Kepublics  gone  before  and  be  blotted  out  forever  ?  Are  we  to 
don  the  robes  of  poHtical  martyrdom,  and  take  our  place  among  the 
proscribed  and  fallen  nations  of  the  earth  ?  Are  the  seeds  of  decay 
and  death  planted  within  our  vitals,  awaiting  only  the  blossoming 
and  the  fruit  ?    Are  tares  springing  up  among  the  wheat  ? 

History  deprecates  the  inroads  of  Alaric  and  Genseric  upon  the 


356 

monumental  glory  of  ancient  Rome;  but  what  is  the  devastation 
which  they  wrought  compared  with  the  destruction  of  a  vast  system 
erected  for  the  security  of  human  happiness  and  liberty. 

Patriotism  is  a  part  of  man's  nature  at  the  first  dawning  of  intel- 
ligence. It  is  woven  in  his  closest  fibres.  At  home  it  is  his  glory 
and  pride;  when  abroad,  a  wanderer  in  exile,  it  rises  before  him  a 
spiritual  oasis  in  the  desert  of  despairing  thought — an  angel  whis- 
pering hope  and  comfort  to  the  lonely  soul.  But  patriotism  without 
religion  cannot  survive.  Nations,  like  individuals,  must  be  trained  for 
freedom,  for 

"  111  fares  the  land  to  hastening  ills  a  prey, 
Where  wealth  accumulates  and  men  decay." 

The  children  of  Abraham,  under  the  direction  of  their  great 
leader  and  law-giver,  commenced  that  ever-memorable  journey  to- 
wards the  land  of  promise.  But,  though  they  had  seen  the  river 
turned  into  blood;  though  the  sea  had  rolled  back  and  they  had 
walked  in  its  midst  on  dry  land;  though  they  had  beheld  the  cloud 
by  day  and  the  pillar  of  fire  by  night,  and  had  heard  the  voice  of 
the  Almighty  speaking  in  the  thunder,  yet,  when  confidence  in  the 
future  should  have  entirely  possessed  them,  at  the  first  temporary 
inconvenience,  they  mui'mured  and  rebelled;  they  longed  for  the 
waters  of  the  Nile  and  the  flesh-pots  of  Egypt,  and  desired  to  return 
to  the  land  of  bondage.  How  could  such  vacillating  creatures  ex- 
pect to  be  the  founders  of  a  new  State  ?  God,  therefore,  suffered 
them  to  die  by  the  wayside,  and  raised  up  a  new  generation  to  drive 
out  the  Canaanites,  and  take  possession  of  the  land  of  promise. 

But  he  who  cherishes  the  faith  made  manifest  in  that  Revelation 
which  the  Creator  has  made  to  His  creature ;  he  who  takes  for  his 
standard  the  lofty  morality  which  it  teaches,  cannot  fail  to  be  a  good 
Christian  and  a  good  citizen;  and  if  apples  of  gold  should  be  set  in 
pictures  of  silver,  to  please  the  eye,  the  great  truth,  that  religion 
and  patriotism  are  one  and  inseparable,  should  be  written  upon  the 
memories  of  the  American  people,  to  be  held  in  everlasting  remem- 
brance. Not  in  the  education  of  the  schools  alone,  should  a  man  be 
trained  ;  a  man  may  be  a  scholar  and  yet  may  be  a  slave.  Re- 
ligion and  morality  are  the  support  of  good  government;  they  give 
security  and  stability  to  the  State  and  motion  to  the  wheels  of  civil- 
ization. 


357 

"  We  should,  therefore,  move,  not  like  a  stream  meandering  through 
the  meadow,  which  is  turned  aside  by  every  trifling  obstacle;  nor 
yet  like  the  mountain  torrent,  which  sweeps  away  everything  in  its 
course  and  leaves  a  rocky  and  dusty  channel  in  its  track;  but  like 
the  great  ocean  itself,  that  emblem  of  power,  which  in  the  calmest 
moments  still  heaves  its  resistless  waters  to  the  shore,  and  purifies 
itself  by  its  own  operation."  So  our  country,  supported  by  religion, 
shall  not,  like  the  meadow  brook,  be  turned  aside  from  the  path  of 
duty  by  any  temporary  danger  from  demagogues  or  false  teachers 
sowing  cockle  in  the  land;  nor  shall  it,  like  the  mountain  torrent, 
rush  madly  forward  in  a  wild  crusade  of  mistaken  libei-ty;  but  she 
shall  be  like  the  mighty  ocean  in  a  calm,  rolling  a  resistless  tide,  and 
fertilizing  the  seeds  of  Gospel  freedom;  as  that  ocean  furnishes  with 
water  the  clouds  which  spread  over  the  whole  heavens,  to  be  dis- 
tilled in  the  gentle  dew  and  refreshing,  rain  which  invigorate  the 
earth. 

Cling,  then,  my  brethren,  to  the  old  faith,  and  rally  round  the  old 
religion.  It  was  a  wise  maxim  of  Lord  Bacon:  "  State  super  mas  an- 
tiquas  et  ambulate  in  eis  " — Adhere  to  the  old  faith,  the  faith  of  your 
fathers,  and  the  faith  that  has  come  down  to  you  wet  with  the  blood 
of  martyrs  and  consecrated  by  the  blood  of  Jesus  Christ.  Here  you 
are  in  a  goodly  heritage,  but  before  you  is  the  land  to  be  pos- 
sessed. Every  land  that  the  sole  of  your  foot  shall  tread  shall  be 
yours.  You  are  to  claim  the  American  continent  for  Christ.  Be 
earnest,  be  faithful,  be  practical,  be  true,  and  your  standards  mil 
never  trail  in  the  dust,  and  the  Church  of  God  will  realize  her  ideal 
of  universal  occupation,  and  as  the  sun  flings  his  golden  showers  on 
every  ripening  harvest,  so  shall  the  grace  of  the  Gospel  light  up  our 
land  and 

"  Lie  like  a  shaft  of  light  across  the  land, 
And  like  a  lane  of  beams  athwart  the  sea." 

And  the  long  dream  of  the  ages  will  be  fulfilled.  And  the  position 
of  the  Catholic  Church  among  the  nations  and  her  inheritance  of  the 
truth  will  be  everywhere  justified  and  acknowledged.  And  the 
Christian  of  the  three  thousandth  century  shall  behold  his  mother 
extend  her  sway  over  eveiy  inch  of  American  soil  by  the  indefeasible 
right  of  moral  occupation.     And  he  shall  behold  a  land  blooming 


358 

like  a  Elim  and  Eden,  a  paradise  of  old,  where  waving  palm-trees 
grow  and  wells  of  living  water  perennially  spring.  And  he  shall  see 
a  government  imbued  with  Christian  faith,  and  a  people  devout  and 
reverent  before  the  name  of  God.  And  streams  of  knowledge  flash- 
ing from  Christian  schools,  in  the  garden  of  the  Lord,  in  the  world's 
last  and  greatest  civilization. 


III. 

IRELAND— PAST  AND  PEESENT. 

DELIVERED  AT  ST.    MARY'S   HALL,   EAST  ORANGE,   N.   J. 

The  following  authorities  have  been  consulted  as  to  facts:  Gir- 
aldus  Cambrensis,  "Expuguatio  et  Topographia  ";  "  Giraldus  Cam- 
brensis  Eversus,"  by  Dr.  Lynch;  "Apologia  pro  Hiberuia,"  Auctore 
Stephano  Vito,  a  refutation  of  Gerald  Barry;  McGheoghegan  and 
Mitchell's  Hist,  of  Ireland;  Moore's  Hist,  of  Ireland;  O'Halloran's 
Hist,  of  Ireland;  Miss  Cusack's  "  Case  of  Ireland  Stated";  "  Parnell 
Movement,"  by  T.  P.  O'Connor;  Lecky's  '*  Leaders  of  Public 
Opinion  ";  "  The  Four  Masters'  Annals,"  by  J.  O'Donovan;  "  Studies 
on  Contemporary  Ireland,"  by  the  Abbe  Pen'aud;  Lanigan's  Ecclesi- 
astical History;  Lingard's  Hist,  of  England;  Greene's  Hist,  of  Eng- 
land; Sullivan's  "New  Ireland";  Duffy's  "Four  Years  of  Hist."; 
Mitchell's  "Jail  Journal";  Todd's  "Wars  of  the  Irish  and  Danes"; 
O'Curry's  "  Antiquities,"  and  many  others  of  equal  authority. 

In  the  emerald  seas  that  roll  eternally  from  Albion  and  Caledonia — 

'  *  Caledonia,  stern  and  wild, 
Meet  nurse  of  a  poetic  child  '* — 

and  dimly  distant  from  their  rugged  shores,  stands  an  island  sung  in 
song  and  famed  in  story.  By  the  Greeks  it  was  named  leme — which, 
by  transposition  of  letters,  becomes  Ii*ene,  meaning  peace — by  the 
Romans  it  was  called  Scotia,  or  Hibemia,  and  by  the  Celts  them- 
selves it  was  called  Erin,  or  Eri.* 

It  is  the  home  of  the  celebrated  Celt.  It  is  the  fairest  patch  of 
earth  ever  flung  by  the  Creator  out  of  the  windows  of  God's  heavens. 

*  O'Flaherty  and^others  give  it  the  ancient  name  Ogygia. 


360 

On  the  face  of  the  Ahnighty's  green  footstool  there  is  no  land  so 
green.  Nowhere  is  the  sky  more  soft,  the  air  more  blithe,  the  sun 
more  mellow,  than  the  sky  that  smiles,  the  air  that  blows,  and  the 
sun  that  shines  upon  this  verdant,  sea-locked  isle.  For  when  the 
day-god,  rejoicing  in  his  strength,  streams  up  the  valleys,  and  rolls 
away  the  blue  haze  from  the  mountain-tops,  all  nature  is  aglow  with 
a  congenial  gladness.  ^' hen  the  early  flowers  of  spring-time  show 
their  heads  above  the  humid  soil,  and  the  enamelled  meads  are 
lighted  up  with  the  ineffable  radiance  of  the  noontide's  golden 
showers,  the  bewitching  beauty  of  the  landscaj^e  precludes  all  ordi- 
nary expressions  of  delight.  The  heather  blooms  upon  the  hillside ; 
the  rose  blushes  in  the  valley;  the  birds  tunefully  carol  in  every 
grove  and  glen.     Nature  has  blessed  the  ancient  isle. 

Her  emerald  shores  are  kissed  by  the  crested  waves  of  the  blue 
Atlantic,  and  the  ceaseless  song  of  the  surging  ocean  makes  undying 
music  along  her  romantic  coast  and  matchless  harbors.  The  rugged 
and  awe-inspiring  grandeur  of  her  mountain  scenery  is  unsurpassed; 
her  plains  and  valleys  smile  in  pastoral  beauty;  her  lordly  rivers  roll 
with  majestic  outflow  to  the  sea;  her  soil  groans  with  fertility  and 
blooms  in  plentiful  profusion  with  tree  and  shrub,  plant  and  flower, 
and  endless  variety  of  vegetation. 

Ah  !  would  thou  wert  more  strong,  at  least  less  fair, 

Home  of  the  lofty,  and  the  moss-clad  tower  ! 
To  hail  whose  strand,  to  breathe  whose  genial  air, 

Is  bliss  to  all  who  feel  of  bliss  the  power 
To  look  upon  whose  mountains  in  the  hour 

When  thy  sun  sinks  in  glory,  and  a  veil 
Of  purple  flows  around  them,  would  restore 

The  sense  of  beauty  where  all  else  might  fail. 

In  this  favored  land,  this  paradise  of  earth,  this  Ultima  Thule  of 
the  Eomans.  there  dwelt,  in  pre-Christian  times,  a  Druidical  people, 
simple,  upright,  patriarchal.  Their  religion  was  an  imposing  Pan- 
theism, for  their  god  dwelt  in  the  groves,  and  they  found  "  books  in 
the  running  brooks,  sermons  in  stones,  and  good  in  everything." 
Each  tawny  chief  might  address  his  followers  in  sentiments  similar 
to  tliose  contained  in  the  exiled  Duke's  philosophy: 

"  Now  my  co- mates  and  brothers  in  exile, 
Hath  not  old  custom  made  this  life  more  sweet 


361 

Than  that  of  painted  pomp  ?  Are  not  these  woods 
More  free  from  peril  than  the  envious  court  ? 
Here  feel  we  but  the  penalty  of  Adam, 
The  season's  difference;  as  the  icy  fang 
And  churlish  ch^ing  of  the  winter's  wind 
Which,  when  it  bites  and  blows  upon  my  body. 
Even  till  I  shrink  with  cold,  I  smile,  and  say. 
This  is  no  flattery." 

But  whatever  their  sentiments,  and  whether  or  not  they  knew  the 
"  penalty  of  Adam,"  they  dwelt  in  peace  and  order.  Their  govern- 
ment was  tribal,  or  clannish;  propei-ty  was  held  in  common,  and  in 
laws,  language,  customs,  and  literature,  they  bore  strong  affinity  to 
the  nations  of  the  East,  for  it  was  supposed  they  came  from  the  land 
of  the  palm,  the  citron,  and  the  olive,  where  the  sun,  shining  in  his 
strength,  poui's  forth  his  burning  beams  through  the  golden  windows 
of  the  Orient. 

It  is  neither  to  be  expected  nor  desired,  that  in  a  discussion  of  so 
brief  a  character  as  that  which  now  engages  attention,  anj^  attempt 
should  be  made  to  enter  upon  vexed  questions  concerning  the  origin 
and  the  antiquity  of  the  Irish  race.  The  labors  of  erudite  antiqua- 
rians like  O'Curry,  Donovan,  Connellen,  Petrie,  and  others,  have  done 
much  to  dispel  the  haze  that  envelopes  the  early  history  of  this  admit- 
tedly ancient  people;  and,  doubtless,  future  research  by  eminent 
scholars,  whose  love  of  study  and  whose  patriotism  shall  impel  them 
to  the  arduous  undertaking,  will  reveal  to  the  world  far  more  than 
has  ever  been  suspected  would  be  known  of  the  character,  customs, 
civilization,  and  origin  of  the  interesting  race  whose  country  Ptolemy 
described,  Strabo  named,  and  the  world-conquering  Romans  beheld 
from  afar,  but  never  visited.  No  country  in  the  world,  perhaps,  offers 
so  vast  a  field  and  so  rich  a  treasure  to  the  antiquary.  But  the  his- 
tory of  Ireland  remains  to  be  written. 

It  is  within  grounds  of  plausible  probabiHty  that  the  original 
home  of  the  Irish  was  among  the  Aryan  and  Iranian  races  of  the 
East.  On  the  high  plateau  of  Irania,  after  the  "  language  of  the 
whole  earth  was  confounded,  and  the  Lord  had  scattered  the 
sons  of  men  abroad  upon  the  face  of  all  countries  "  (Gen.  xi.  9), 
the  stream  of  humanity  began  to  flow,  and  the  sons  of  Japeth 
stretched  all  the  way  from  Persia  to  the  Crimea,  and  from  Judea  to 


362 

the  Pillars  of  Hercules,  and  even  to  the  forests  of  Germany.  De- 
scended from  Gomer,  the  son  of  Japeth  (Gen.  x.),  they  rapidly 
grew  into  a  powerful  people,  known  to  history  as  the  Cimme- 
rians of  remote  antiquity,  the  Cimbri  of  Caesar  and  Tacitus,  and 
the  Celts  of  more  modern  communities.  They  were  a  brave, 
hardy,  resolute,  energetic  race  Westward,  following  the  track  of 
the  setting  sun,  they  came,  a  seething  wave  of  the  human  family, 
seeking  broader  acquisitions  and  athirst  of  conquest.  From  Central 
Asia  and  Armenia  to  the  forest  regions  north  of  the  ^gean  and  the 
Black  Sea,  they  extended  their  excursions;  and  down  the  Mediter- 
ranean to  Sicily,  Candia,  and  Greece,  they  spread  with  marvellous 
rapidity,  and  thence  to  France,  Spain,  and  the  islands  of  the  West- 
ern ocean.*  To  Erin  came  one  segment  of  this  migratory  people, 
where  they  rested,  and  for  centuries  remained  in  peaceful  and  un- 
disturbed possession  of  their  sea-girt  and  ocean-guarded  home. 
Here  lived  and  worshipped  a  primeval  people,  and  the  hardy  vigor 
of  their  manhood  still  exists  in  the  splendid  vitality  of  the  Celtic 
population  of  the  Western  Islands.  And  it  was  the  worship  of  the 
people  which  doubtless  inspired  the  genius  of  their  church  archi- 
tecture, as  it  subsequently  appeared.  For  what  were  the  great  and 
lofty  vaults  of  their  churches;  "  the  countless  delicate  columns, 
spreading,  as  they  rose,  into  branching  bows  and  forming  sweeping 
arches  overhead;  the  finely-tapered  spire,  piercing  the  clouds  of 
heaven  and  adorned  with  flowers  and  foliage  cut  in  stone,  and  with 
fantastic  statuettes  of  matchless  beauty,"  but  symbols  borrowed  from 
the  wild  oak  forests  of  the  country,  to  which  a  spiritual  significance 
had  been  given  when  the  island,  through  St.  Patrick,  had  been  con- 
secrated to  the  worship  of  Almighty  God  ?  f  And  what  was  "  the 
mysterious  and  awe-inspiring  light,  softened  and  toned  till  it  wears 
the  guise  of  another  world;  and  deftly  wrought  with  branch-work  of 
stem  and  leaf  and  flower,  through  which  the  sunbeams  stole  with 
magical  effect  and  indescribable  charm,"  but  a  feeble  attempt  to 
transfer  to  the  purposes  of  religion  something  of  the  majesty  and 
beauty  of  those  grand  primeval  forest  sanctuaries  of  the  ancient 
Druids  ?     But  this  speculation  is  by  the  way. 

A  brilliant  but  hostile  writer  in  the  North  American  Review,  for 

*  Rawlinson,  "  Origin  of  Nations." 

f  Montalembert's  "  Monks  of  Jthe^West." 


363 

1841,  observes:  "  Ireland,  unfortunately,  found  no  Caesar  to  subdue, 
no  Agricola  to  colonize,  no  Tacitus  to  describe  her.  No  Roman  ever 
planted  a  hostile  foot  upon  her  shores;  and  she  went  on  from  cen- 
twry  to  century  in  isolated  obscurity,  with  the  poor  consolation  of 
some  after  claims  to  learning  and  virtue,  too  often  a  bjnvord  for 
ridicule  and  doubt." 

It  is  possible  these  claims  have  evoked  ridicule,  but  it  is  the  ridi- 
cule of  prejudice  and  ignorance,  and  it  subjects  to  the  scorn  of  aU 
enlightened  men,  not  its  objects,  but  its  authors.  Let  us,  for  a  mo- 
ment, hft  the  veil  from  the  son'ow-crowned  queen  of  the  ocean,  that 
we  may  trace  in  her  countenance  the  source  of  those  tears  which, 
like  pearls,  dew-dipped  and  ^n-kissed,  shine  in  eyes  that  sparkle 
through  the  mist  of  grief,  and  look  forward  with  a  hopeful  happi- 
ness founded  upon  an  unshaken  trust  in  God,  the  ultimate  triumph 
of  justice  and  the  restoration  of  the  right. 

The  earliest,  or  Druidical,  inhabitants  of  Ireland  were  gifted  by 
nature  with  splendid  endowments.  Of  fine  form  and  physique,  com- 
manding mien  and  visage,  superb  stature,  keen,  active,  and  intelli- 
gent, they  were  worthy  descendants  of  that  proud  Phoenician  stock 
from  which  they  originally  sprang.  Tacitus  remarks  in  his  life  of 
Julius  Agricola,  that  the  harbors  of  Ireland  were  better  known  in 
the  line  of  commerce  to  commercial  people  than  those  of  Britain; 
and  Probus,  in  his  life  of  St.  Patrick,  descanting  upon  the  com- 
mercial activity  of  the  ancient  Irish,  alludes  to  the  continual  mer- 
cantile intercourse  between  tlie  people  of  Gaul  and  those  of  Ireland; 
to  which  circumstance,  indeed,  is  the  country  indebted  for  its  first 
acquaintance  with  its  splendid  Apostle,  St.  Patrick.  What  Caesar 
remarks  in  his  Commentaries  of  the  Druids  of  Britain,  that  they 
might  claim  the  praise  of  civilization  in  comparison  with  the  inhabit- 
ants of  other  western  nations  (De  Bello  Gallico,  p.  76),  could  not 
extend,  in  a  depreciatory  sense,  to  the  Irish,  as  the  evidence  of  Taci- 
tus demonstrates.  The  people  of  the  green  isle  had  indisputably 
made  appreciable  advancement  as  far  back  as  Caesar's  day,  and  even 
long  before,  as  the  research  of  O'Donovan  shows,  concerning  the 
reign  of  Ollaf  FoUa,  900  b.c. 

Like  all  pastoral  people,  they  rejoiced  in  the  freedom  of  their 
simple  life.  On  every  side  clustered  beauties  which  art  could  not 
imitate,  and  which  the  hand  of  the  invader  had  not  yet  spoiled.     In 


364 

a  mild  temperature  and  under  a  serene  sky,  they  tilled  a  grateful  and 
luxuriant  soil,  which  yielded  a  meet  reward  to  their  industry  and 
secured  them  a  competence.  Nor  were  they  unskilled  in  the  art  of 
agriculture,  or  in  the  mechanical  employments,  as  far  as  their  simple 
necessities  might  be  supposed  to  favor  invention.  To  the  stubborn 
portions  of  the  glebe  they  made  application  of  fertilizers;  they  cul- 
tivated corn  in  abundance ;  constructed  commodious  habitations  for 
shelter;  wove  their  own  raiment;  fashioned  textile  fabrics  in  variety, 
and  manufactured  such  implements  of  household  service  as  their 
needs  and  exigencies  demanded.  Even  so  generous  a  hater  of  all 
things  Irish  as  Giraldus  Cambrensis,  bears  ungrudging  testimony  to 
their  proficiency  in  the  arts  of  the  times,  though,  indeed,  as  he  says 
himself,  he  "  struck  a  weak-toned  lyre "  and  "  used  a  feeble  pen." 
In  the  common  course  of  things,  as  Giraldus  observes,  mankind  pro- 
gresses from  the  forest  to  the  field,  from  the  field  to  the  town,  and 
from  the  town  to  the  social  condition  of  citizens;  but  at  this  period 
of  theii*  existence,  being  averse  to  civil  institutions,  the  Irish  had 
not  yet  advanced  beyond  the  rusticity  of  purely  bucolic  life.  They 
had,  however,  natural  gifts  of  an  order  so  excellent  that  they  had 
learned  to  penetrate  into  the  mysteries  of  the  wonderful  art  of 
music,  in  which  they  were  incomparably  more  skillful  than  neigh- 
boring nations.  The  measured  modulations,  the  sweet  harmony  and 
the  gay  and  lively  tones  of  their  music  helped  to  soothe  them  in 
sorrow,  relieve  them  in  toil,  and  tranquillize  them  in  trouble  and 
care. 

They  were,  likewise,  a  warlike  people,  and  after  the  gifts  of  the 
gods,  their  greatest  glory  was  in  the  field,  brandishing  the  battle-axe, 
wielding  the  spear,  or  throwing  the  dart.  This  militant  disposition, 
whether  inherited  from  martial  ancestors,  or  acquired  from  repeated 
action  in  self-defense,  was  often  turned  to  disastrous  account  among 
themselves.  Thus,  one  petty  chieftain  implacably  warred  against 
another,  and  one  tribe  or  faction  found  fiendish  delight  in  going 
forth 

' '  To  cry  havoc  and  let  slip  the  dogs  of  war  " 

upon  some  unhappy,  unsuspecting  neighbor.  It  is  needless  to  re- 
mark that  the  love  of  a  generous  melee  is  an  Irish  characteristic 
still.     But  "even  their  failings  leaned  to  virtue's  side";  for  if  his 


365 

impetuous  nature  speedily  bore  him  inito  altercation,  the  Irishman, 
like  Brutus, 

"  Carried  anger  as  the  flint  bears  fire  ; 
Who,  much  enforced,  shows  a  hasty  spark 
And  straight  is  cold  again." 

Quick  to  avenge  a  personal  affront,  and  unsparing  in  chastise- 
ment upon  a  foe,  he  was  magnanimous  in  victory,  and  his  ready 
sympathies  always  ran  to  the  oppressed  and  the  weak.  The  senti- 
ment of  the  modern  poet  was  his  own  : 

"  I  know  that  the  world,  that  the  great  big  world, 

From  the  peasant  up  to  the  king, 
Has  a  different  tale  from  the  tale  I  tell, 

And  a  different  song  to  sing. 
But  for  me,  and  I  care  not  a  single  fig 

Whether  they  say  I'm  wrong  or  right, 
My  heart  will  beat,  while  it  beats  at  all. 

For  the  under  dog  in  the  fight." 

They  were  strong  and  ardent  in  their  domestic  attachments,  but 
had  adopted  the  custom  of  fosterage,  so  graphically  described  in 
Gerald  Griffin's  invasion.  An  open-handed  hospitality  was  chai-- 
acteristic  of  their  homes,  and  no  crime  in  their  calendar  was 
deemed  more  atrocious  than  the  refusal  to  harbor  the  harborless 
and  entertain  the  wayfarer.  This  commendable  trait  of  character 
has  never  been  excelled  in  the  conduct  of  any  nation,  and  could 
be  exercised  so  lavishly  only  by  a  generous  and  warm-hearted 
people,  who  were  not  oppressed  by  opulence,  as  theu'  riches  con- 
sisted chiefly  in  the  extent  of  their  pastures  and  the  number  of  their 
flocks.  A  keen  and  sagacious  philosopher  has  remarked  that  those 
lineaments  which  attest  distinctively  the  national  cast  of  tempera- 
ment and  qualities  of  disposition,  are  ineffaceable,  despite  all  out- 
ward mutation  and  influence.  Be  this  as  it  will,  the  master  passion 
of  the  Irish  heart  to-day  is  of  the  same  turn  it  took  in  the  nation's 
infancy,  for  warmer  good-fellowship,  more  cordial  conviviality  (I  use 
the  term  in  its  best  sense),  than  that  of  the  Irishman  is  not  discover- 
able under  the  stars. 

Among  aU  theu*  various  predispositions  of  mind,  none,  perhaps, 
was  either  so  strong  or  so  obvious  as  that  which  contributed  to  the 


366 

facility  of  their  conversion  to  the  faith  of  Christianity.  A  deep  re- 
ligious instinct  was  ingrained  in  their  character,  which  moulded 
and  attempered  the  whole  tenor  and  drift  of  their  lives.  They  were 
addicted  to  idolatry,  and  Lingard  tells  us,  on  the  authority  of  Usher 
and  Ware,  that  they  worshipped  under  different  appellations  the 
same  gods  almost  as  the  Greeks  and  the  Komans.  It  is  to  be  pre- 
sumed, that  he  means  that  the  gods  adored  by  both  represented, 
under  different  names,  the  same  ideas  of  the  mind  or  passions  of 
the  heart.  It  merits  observation  in  passing,  that  a  few  fancies  and 
feelings  which  have  given  origin  to  different  idolatries,  are  those 
which  operate  on  the  mind  everywhere,  such  as  power,  fear,  love, 
lust,  and  others  ;  and  hence  there  is  always  a  singular  correspond- 
ence of  ideas  among  separate  nations  as  to  the  character  of  their 
divinities.  The  'Scandinavian  Thor  squares  with  the  Roman  thun- 
derer  Jove.  Comparative  mythology  furnishes  a  chain  of  corre- 
spondence which  is  all  but  endless.* 

Like  all  Druids,  the  oak  they  regarded  with  special  reverence, 
and  the  monarch  of  the  forest  was,  owing  to  its  firmness  and  stabil- 
ity, considered  an  appropriate  emblem  of  Deity. 

At  the  solemn  midnight  hour,  as  the  moon  shimmered  on  the 
tremulous  leaves,  and  the  night-wind  moaned  through  the  heavy 
foliage,  they  sought  the  gloomy  caverns  of  the  forest ;  and  in  the 
sublime  solitude  that  enwrapt  the  sylvan  scene,  the  trembling  votary 
preferred  his  petition  to  the  invisible  Powers  above  and  apprehen- 
sively awaited  the  response. 

Whether  they  gathered  beneath  the  dark  shadows  of  their  groves 
to  catch  only  a  dim  and  distant  glimpse  of  their  fire-god  through  the 
lonely  vista,  or  whether  they  reverently  viewed  the  sacred  flame 
ascending  from  the  lofty  round-towers,  or  whether  in  religious  ob- 
servance they  met  to  listen  to  the  songs  of  their  bards,  the  chronicles 
of  their  scalds,  or  the  incantations  of  their  ministering  priests,  the 
Druids,  they  were  always  governed,  animated,  permeated  by  ideas 
of  the  unearthly,  the  supernatural,  the  divine.  The  weii'd  music, 
the  deep  pathos,  the  solemn  melancholy,  the  magic  genius,  and  the 
martial  spirit  of  the  bards  and  Druids,  all  closely  interwoven  with 
religion,  had  irresistible  attractions  for  the  Irish  people. 

Such  was  the  Ireland  of  the  olden  days,  before  the  day-star  of 

*  See  Max  Muller  and  Keightley, 


367 

Christianity  had  dawned  upon  the  Island.  Then,  how  marvellous 
the  change,  unexampled  in  the  annals  of  histoiy. 

When  in  the  year  432,  through  her  glorious  Apostle,  St.  Patrick, 
the  light  of  divine  revelation  was  borne  to  her  shores,  and  the  ban- 
ners of  the  cross  were  uj^raised  on  every  hiQtop  and  in  every  valley, 
what  an  inspiring  spectacle  was  presented  to  the  eyes  of  men !  Then 
began  the  morning-prime  of  faith  and  the  golden  dawn  of  learning 
upon  the  sea-girt  isle.  God  seemed  to  prepare  her  a  habitation  for 
civilization  and  religion  when  the  terrible  tempest  of  destruction 
had  gathered  around  the  seven-hilled  city  of  the  Ciesars,  and  the  bar- 
barian hordes  had  overswept  the  continental  provinces  from  the 
Rhine  and  Danube  to  the  Arno  and  the  Tiber.  Safeguarded  by  her 
insular  situation,  Ireland  felt  not  the  shock  of  invasion  and  the  throes 
of  war,  and  her  sheltering  shores  afforded  a  secure  refuge  for  the 
proscribed  civilization  of  Europe. 

And  before  the  grand  Apostle  closed  his  weary  eyes  and  fell  asleep 
in  Christ,  the  brightest  angelic  virtues  found  a  home  on  eai-th.  The 
sweet  incense  of  prayer  from  hosts  of  innocent  hearts  was  daily 
wafted  on  the  morning  air  unto  the  high  heavens  of  God.  Like  the 
rivers  of  paradise,  that  flow  noiselessly,  like  the  sap  of  ancient 
mighty  trees  that  grow  silently,  the  dew  of  divine  grace  feU  upon 
grateful  soil  in  unseen  showers,  and  forthwith  the  land  was  blessed 
with  fruitfuhiess.  Then,  hearts  glowing  with  devotion  evoked  a 
spirit  of  religion  that  spread,  like  the  fire  of  ancient  Tara,  like 
lightning  through  the  land.  Never  before,  perhaps,  was  such  a  con- 
cert raised  to  heaven  as  that  which  ascended  to  God  from  the 
banks  of  the  streams,  from  the  sides  of  the  rock,  and  from  the  depths 
of  the  forest  glade,  when  tlie  newly  redeemed  intoned  with  glad- 
some voice  the  hymn  of  prayer  and  gratitude  and  praise  to  Him 
who  dwelleth  upon  high.  The  words  of  Montalembeii  are  applicable 
here  :  "  The  Church  of  God  may  have  known  days  more  resplendent 
and  more  solemn,  but  I  know  not  if  she  ever  breathed  forth  a  charm 
more  touching  and  more  pure  than  in  the  early  spring-time  of 
monastic  life.  Christian  vuiue,  watered  by  the  spirit  of  penitence, 
began  to  bud  everywhere.  Everywhere  faith  seemed  to  blossom  like 
flowers  after  a  long  winter  ;  everywhere  moral  life  revived  and 
budded  like  the  verdure  of  the  forest,"  and  everywhere,  we  may 
add,  under  the  ancient  arches  of  Druidical  forests  to  the  melody  of 


368 

the  murmnrmg  waters  and  the  singing  of  the  breeze,  was  celebrated 
the  fresh  betrothals,  the  immortal  marriage  of  the  Irish  Catholic 
Church  and  her  spotless  Spouse,  Jesus  Christ.  Purity,  justice,  truth  ; 
chivalry,  bravery  manhood  ;  honor,  peace,  domestic  affection ;  a 
deeper  reverence  for  holy  things,  a  love  for  the  beauty  of  God's 
house  and  the  place  where  His  glory  dwelleth  ;  ardent  devotion  to 
the  divine  Sacraments  and  an  abiding  and  inextinguishable  conse- 
cration to  the  faith  of  Christ, — these  were  the  bright  flowers  of 
virtue  which  sprang  in  profusion  from  the  prolific  stem  of  Christian- 
ity which  found  such  congenial  nourishment  in  the  soil  of  Ireland. 
The  glowing  and  enthusiastic  praise  of  the  Psalmist  befits  Ireland's 
spiritual  regeneration  :  "  The  river  of  God  is  filled  with  water.  Thou 
preparest  their  corn  ;  Thou  makest  it  soft  with  showers ;  Thou 
blessest  the  springing."  As  soon  as  the  potent  voice  of  Patrick  had 
broken  the  spell  of  superstition  that  enchained  her  in  its  thrall, 
telling  her  of  the  one  God  in  tliree  persons,  symbolized  by  the  green 
trefoil  that  sprouted  from  her  breast,  Ireland  hurled  down  her  idols, 
fell  at  the  feet  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  joyfuUy  yielded  up  to  God  the 
fire  of  her  intellect  and  the  strong  love  of  her  young  and  fervent 
heart.  Patrick  found  Ireland  pagan,  and  in  less  than  a  century  it 
had  become  Christian  without  the  shedding  of  a  di'op  of  blood.  The 
day-star  of  faith  rose  upon  her,  not  in  cloud  and  tempest,  but  light 
and  gently  springing,  like  the  birth  of  dawn  upon  a  summer's 
morning.  Along  the  road  run  by  other  nations  to  the  goal  of  faith, 
the  path  is  often  marked  by  the  ruby  drops  of  blood  shed  by  the 
intrepid  heralds  of  the  Gospel,  No  blotch  of  blood  ensanguined 
Ireland's  path  to  Christ,  for  it  is  strewn  and  garlanded  with  flowers 
of  grace  and  laurels  of  seraphic  love. 

Then  it  was  that  the  fire  of  divine  faith  burned  brightly  at  every 
fane,  and  the  golden  cross  gleamed  from  every  steeple.  Then  the 
matin  song  of  the  monks  and  anchorites  resounded  throughout  the 
land,  and  under  banner-breathing  penitence  and  peace,  the  long 
procession  of  religious  made  their  way  from  shrine  to  shrine  in  pious 
pilgrimage.  Then,  as  if  by  the  touch  of  a  magic  wand,  arose  schools, 
convents,  monasteries,  and  churches,  whither  came  in  flocks  the  best 
men  of  Albion,  and  Gaul,  and  Germany,  to  drink  in  inspiration,  to 
slake  their  thirst  for  information  from  the  copious  cup  of  knowledge 
which  she  lifted  to  their  Hps. 


Thus  Patrick  appears  among  them,  "  leaning  on  his  staff,  and 
bringing  them  from  Rome  and  Gaul  new  songs  in  a  new  language, 
and  set  to  a  new  melody/'  He  comes  to  unveil  to  them  what  lies 
hidden,  unknown  to  themselves,  in  the  depths  of  their  hearts.  He 
comes  to  tell  them,  by  the  power  and  authority  of  the  Supreme  God, 
why  it  is  that  their  mountains  are  so  high,  their  valleys  so  smiling, 
their  rivers  and  lakes  so  teeming  with  life,  theu'  fountains  so  fresh 
and  cool,  their  sun  so  temperate  and  genial  in  its  warmth,  and  their 
moon  and  stars  lighted  with  a  soft  radiance,  and  shimmering  over 
the  deep  obscurity  of  their  groves.  He  tells  them  to  look  into  their 
own  consciences,  to  acknowledge  themselves  sinners  in  need  of  re- 
demption; and  with  the  immorial  shamrock  in  his  hand  he  explains 
to  them  from  the  hilltop  of  Tara,  pointing  to  them  the  heavens,  the 
mystery  of  the  triune  God,  the  God  of  theu'  groves  and  glades  and 
dells,  their  rivers  and  mountains,  whose  eternal  Son,  Jesus  Christ, 
shed  His  blood  for  theh-  reiemption.  And  they  received  the  faith  of 
Patrick  with  alacrity  and  joy.  They  hugged  it  to  their  hearts;  it 
sunk  deep  into  their  souls.  It  entered  into  their  blood,  their  being, 
and  their  life,  never  to  be  eradicated,  never  to  be  plucked  out  by  any 
power  on  earth  or  hell,  as  long  as  grass  grows,  or  water  runs,  until 
the  last  son  of  the  ancient  faithful  isle,  who  walks  the  earth,  shall 
breathe  forth  his  last  sigh,  and  surrender  up  his  individual  being 
into  the  everlasting  arms  of  the  God  that  made  it. 

And  is  there  an  Irishman  among  the  living — on  the  face  of  the 
green  globe — beneath  God's  cii'cling  sun — who  is  ashamed  of  the  old 
faith  and  religion  of  his  forefathers  ?  If  such  there  be,  let  oblivion 
hide  him;  let  him  perish  in  foul  dishonor.  He  is  reprobated  by  his 
race  and  traitorous  to  his  God. 

Let  us  ascend  the  highways  of  history  till  we  stand  together  be- 
neath the  shadows  of  the  grand  old  pillar-towers  of  Ireland. 

"The  pillar-towers  of  Ireland  how  wondrously  they  stand 
By  the  lakes  and  rushing  rivers,  through  the  valleys  of  the  land; 
In  mystic  file  throughout  the  aisle,  they  lift  their  heads  sublime, 
These  gray  old  pillar  temples,  these  conquerors  of  time. 

*'  Beside  these  gray  old  temples,  how  perishing  and  weak 
The  Romans'  arch  of  triumph,  and  the  temple  of  the  Greek, 
And  the  gold  domes  of  Byzantium,  and  the  pointed  Gothic  spires- 
All  are  gone,  one  by  one,  but  the  temples  of  our  sires." 
24 


370 

Standing  under  these  "  time-conquering  "  towers,  which  separate 
the  past  from  the  present,  we  find  ourselves  at  the  spring-head  of 
Ireland's  Christianity,  and  can  gain  a  glimpse  of  her  glorious  pris- 
tine faith  and  freedom,  ere  Dane  or  Norman  had  dispelled  this  vision 
of  loveliness  and  cast  his  blight  upon  the  land. 

What  magnificent  achievements  were  wrought  in  the  three  and 
thirty  years  of  Patrick's  missionary  toil.  His  ardent  zeal  and  glow- 
ing enthusiasm  had  fired  the  hearts  of  his  neophytes,  and  in  the 
space  of  a  few  years  they  became  a  sanctified  race,  and  the  land  a 
sanctified  land  in  which  the  flowers  of  every  virtue  grew,  and  sent 
up  their  refreshing  fragrance,  like  sweet  exhalations  of  the  morning 
to  the  face  of  the  Lord.  But  true  faith  is  never  inert  or  exanimate. 
It  is  always  active  and  unflagging.  It  blossoms  forth  in  good 
works  which  prove  its  spirit  and  vitality. 

The  splendid  zeal  of  Patrick's  converts  soon  covered  the  land  with 
temples  to  the  living  God,  and  their  love  of  learning  called  forth 
every  facility  for  the  acquirement  of  knowledge.  For  three  golden 
centuries  the  gleaners  went  forth  to  gather  the  harvest  of  wisdom 
and  holiness  which  ripened  in  shining  sheaves  in  every  corner  of  the 
country.  Every  city  had  become  a  school  of  knowledge.  Colleger 
and  universities  multiplied  fast  and  faster.  The  schoolmaster  was 
abroad — abroad  in  the  fulness  of  power  and  honor.  The  scholar 
had  put  his  armor  on,  and  ignorance  fled  at  his  approach.  Battalions 
of  students  mustered  on  the  green  shores  of  Erin  from  the  lands  be- 
yond the  waters.  They  came  in  concourses  and  congresses.  They 
spoke  every  language;  were  garbed  in  every  costume;  their  multi- 
tudinous voices  drowned  the  city's  din,  echoed  in  every  valley,  re- 
sounded in  every  glen.  They  came  from  every  land— the  Frank 
from  the  Rhine;  the  Italian  from  the  Tiber;  the  Gaul  from  the 
Garonne;  the  Pict  and  the  Scot  "  from  Severn  and  from  Clyde  ";  the 
Saxon  and  the  Dane  came  to  the  shores  of  Innisfail,  to  gild  their 
minds  with  the  glory  of  ancient  Greece;  to  gather  up  the  learning 
of  Rome  of  old  renown;  to  hear  the  tongue  of  Tacitus  and  speech 
of  Sophocles;  to  drink  in  the  lore  of  antiquity  from  the  mouths  of 
Irish  masters,  in  Irish  asylums  of  learning,  upon  the  green  soil  of 
despised  old  Ireland. 

Europe  is  now  a  theatre  of  strife.  War  has  unchained  the  dragon 
of  destruction.     Barbarian  hordes,  like  a  swarm  of  locusts,  darken 


371 

the  air  of  civilization,  and  impending  ruin  hangs  over  the  culture 
and  refinement  of  ages.  White-winged  peace  had  almost  fled  the 
earth,  but  her  feet  found  a  resting-place  in  Ireland.  For  three  cen- 
turies the  gentle  goddess  held  undisputed  sway  and  spread  her  shel- 
tering wings  over  the  green  isle.  Here  alone  the  light  of  learning 
shone,  and  the  sun  of  sanctity  shed  her  genial  beams.  "  The  nations 
beheld  it  from  afar,  and  the  gentiles  walked  in  the  brightness  of  its 
rising."  Hence,  they  came  to  worship  at  her  shrines,  to  study  in 
her  seminaries,  to  matriculate  at  her  colleges,  to  enrich  themselves 
from  the  storehouses  of  her  erudition,  and  in  the  eloquent  language 
of  a  gifted  son  of  Irish  genius,  "  to  carry  back  with  them  to  their 
homes  beyond  the  seas  and  across  the  mountains,  the  fame  of  her 
learning,  the  renown  of  her  sanctity,  the  story  of  the  nobility  of  her 
men  and  the  purity  and  truth  and  beauty  of  her  women;  and  to 
proclaim  to  the  world  in  a  voice  which  comes  floating  down  to  us 
on  the  breezes  of  undying  history,  that  in  those  far-off,  halcyon  days, 
Ireland  was  in  God's  very  truth  an  '  Island  of  Saints  and  of  Sages.' "  * 

Nor  is  this  all.  Evangelized  and  regenerated,  Ireland  bears  the 
blessings  of  Christianity  to  other  lands.  When  her  own  schools  and 
chui'ches  had  begun  to  flourish  Hke  the  *'  green  bay-tree  planted  by 
the  running  waters,"  her  scholars  commenced  to  issue  forth  and  pass 
over  Europe  like  the  following  waves  of  the  sea.  These  were  the 
days  when  Columba  went  to  lona,  Columbanus  to  Gaul  and  Germany, 
GaUus  and  Fridolin  to  Switzerland,  and  Killian  to  Franconia.  Verily, 
"  He  that  is  mighty  hath  done  great  things  for  her,  and  holy  is  His 
name." 

From  this  pleasing  picture  just  presented,  we  now  turn  to  one  of 
the  most  thrilling  tragedies  ever  seen  in  the  gory  annals  of  any  age. 
Never  in  the  silence  of  the  blue  heavens  did  the  cold  moon,  as  she 
trod  her  silvery  path  to  the  sea,  look  down  upon  so  sad  a  scene, 
and  never  did  the  rosy  clouds  in  the  deep  tenderness  of  twilight 
shed  their  dying  radiance  upon  a  field  so  crimson  as  the  ensanguined 
soil  of  Ireland. 

"Oh,  Ireland,  ancient  Ireland, 
Till  now  thy  life  has  been  all  glad  and  gay — 
Bid  it  awake  and  look  on  grief  to-day. 

*  See  Butler's  Lives  ;  Alzog's  Church  Hist.,  passim;  T.  Burke's  Lectures.. 


372 


No  shade  had  come  between  thee  and  the  sun  • 
Like  some  long  childish  dream  thy  life  has  run. 
But  now  the  stream  has  reached  a  deep,  dark  sea, 
And  sorrow,  dim,  but  crowned,  is  waiting  thee." 


What  lack  the  valleys  and  the  mountains, 

That  once  were  green  and  gay  ? 
What  lack  the  babbling  fountains  ?     • 

Their  voice  is  sad  to  day. 
What  lack  the  tender  flowers  ? 

A  shadow  is  on  the  sun. 
What  lack  the  merry  hours  ? 

Their  course  is  clearly  run." 


"  Ood'%  world  is  bathed  in  beauty, 
God's  world  is  steeped  in  light ; 
It  is  the  self-same  glory. 

Which  makes  the  day  so  bright,  . 
Which  thrills  the  earth  with  music 
And  hangs  the  stars  in  night. 

"Man's  world  is  bleak  and  bitter. 

Wherever  he  has  trod. 
He  spoils  the  tender  beauty 

That  blossoms  on  the  sod, 
And  blasts  the  loving  heavens, 

Of  the  great  good  world  of  God."  * 

It  is  beside  our  purpose  to  chant  the  threnody  of  Ireland's 
tears.  We  would  not  hold  up  to  view  the  blood-stained  banner  of 
Erin.  We  would  fain  forbear  to  speak  of  deeds  wrought  with  steel 
and  writ  in  iron.  We  hke  not  to  dwell  on  memories  that  burn  and 
thoughts  that  bleed.  We  would  not  tear  those  gaping  wounds 
afresh,  else  it  might  move 

"  The  stones  of  Rome  to  rise  and  mutiny." 

Nor  do  we  speak  of  dynasties  defunct,  of  kings  and  governments 
and  parliaments  that  are  passed  away,  for  our  strength  is  not  in 
kings,  but  in  the  Lord  God  of  hosts.  We  tell  no  tale  of  faded 
glories,  vanished  victories,  and  departed  splendor,  because  doom 
and  folly  hang  like  the  pall  of  everlasting  night  upon  the  people, 

*  Adelaide  Proctor. 


373 

who  nurse  idle  memories  of  former  grandeur,  who  live  only  in  the 

melancholj^  glories  of  the  past,  and  who,  with  sorrow  on  their  brow, 

like  the  cloud  upon  the  mountain,  with  moistened  eye  and  drooping 

head,  stand  4 

"  Niobe  among  the  nations." 

The  Irish  can  never  be  like  the  Jews  of  old  who,  with  air  dis- 
traught, sat  down  by  Babylon's  wailing  waters  to  hang  their  harps 
upon  the  willow  boughs,  and  weeping,  cried,  "  How  can  we  sing  our 
songs  in  a  strange  land.*'  The  great  law  of  change  is  wiitten  in 
letters  of  fire  upon  all  the  sons  of  men  ;  and  among  them  all  we  can 
find  nothing  lasting  but  an  immortal  spirit  and  the  handwriting  of 
God  graven  upon  it.  It  is  something  very  sad  and  grand  to  walk 
along  the  shores  of  the  past  and  gaze  upon  the  wrecks  of  nations, 
stranded  by  the  buffets  of  the  waves  in  Time's  tempestuous  ocean. 
But  it  is  also  pleasing  to  see,  how,  over  the  ruins  and  wrecks  of  the 
rolling  years,  the  ocean  of  humanity  keeps  flowing  on  in  endless 
motion  evermore.  The  component  elements  of  a  nation  may  change, 
but  the  spirit  of  the  nature  is  immortal.  And  it  is  of  this  immortal, 
unquenchable,  and  indestructible  spiiit  of  the  Irish  race  we  are  to 
sound  the  praise.  We  ask  you  to  see  how  the  old  spirit  which 
burned  and  flushed  in  Celtic  breasts  stiU  lives  despite  all  efforts 
at  strangulation.  We  ask  you  to  see  it  battling  its  way  amid  a 
thousand  conflicts,  yet  always  coming  forth,  if  sometimes  vanquished, 
never  crushed  or  conquered.  We  ask  you  to  behold  it  after  seven 
centuries,  as  we  hope  to  behold  the  green  old  flag  of  Erin  rising  among 
the  nations  like  the  sunburst  of  the  morning, — to  behold  it  rising 
Phoenix-like  from  its  own  ashes, — rising  above  flood  and  fire  and 
famine — rising  above  the  din  and  roar  and  rumble  of  intei'nal  feud 
and  foreign  strife, — not  in  feebleness  or  decrepitude,  but  young, 
healthy,  and  vigorous  as  of  yore  ;  the  same  indomitable  and  im- 
perishable spirit ;  superior  to  calamities,  undaunted  by  disaster, — 
rising  over  all, — and  spreading  over  seas  and  continents  and  oceans 
the  Cross  of  Christ,  its  pillar  of  cloud  by  the  day,  and  the  sunburst 
of  old  Erin,  its  pillar  of  fire  by  night,  spreading  everywhere,  and 
absorbing,  transmuting  the  nations  on  its  way  into  the  glory  of  its 
own  immortal  likeness. 

It  is  the  golden  age  of  Ireland,  and  we  stand  on  the  shores  of  the 
sacred  Isle.     The  ocean  that  sun-ounds  us  eternally  sings  the  song 


374 

of  freedom.  The  green-robed  hills  are  gladdened  and  give  back  the 
echo  of  the  song.  The  archoUam,  or  native  bard,  tunes  his  lyre,  and 
sings  :  "  O  Erin,  thy  granaries  are  full,  thy  children  are  happy,  thy 
daughters  are  virtuous,  thy  sons  are  brave,  thy  old  me^are  wise,  thy 
rulers  are  just,  and  thy  homes  are  in  peace."  But  if  thy  days  were 
bright,  O  Erin,  dark  shall  be  thy  nights.  The  tocsin  of  war  is 
sounded.  The  clouds  of  desolation  and  death  rest  on  the  nations  of 
Europe,  and  wars  and  rumors  of  wars  sound  from  afar  as  the  harsh 
noise  of  rolling  thunder.  Behold !  we  hear,  as  it  were,  the  voice  of 
the  destroying  angel  rushing  through  the  heavens,  and  crying,  "  Woe 
to  the  Irish  race."  On  they  come — the  bloodthirsty  Viking ;  ^le 
children  of  Ask  and  Embla,  worshipers  of  Thor,  the  thunder-god  ; 
and  Odin,  the  god  of  tiger  strife  ;  and  Frigga,  the  lust-god, — they 
come,  the  truculent,  fierce,  implacable  warriors  who  drank  hydromel 
from  the  skulls  of  their  foes  in  the  halls  of  their  Walhalla, — they 
come,  like  scorpions  of  affliction,  like  scourges  of  Almighty  God, — 
and  for  two  hundred  and  fourteen  years  they  drink  the  blood  of 
Ireland's  children  along  the  unhappy  shores  of  Erin.  Dark  and 
dismal  was  the  day  these  vampires  and  sleuth-hounds  laid  their 
gory  hands  upon  the  white  throat  of  helpless  Ireland.  Long  and 
dreary  and  starless  was  the  night  of  desolation  that  intervened  from 
the  hour  that,  under  the  black  raven  plumes  of  Odin,  Dane  and 
Northmen  landed  at  Limerick  and  Cork  and  Waterford,  until  on 
that  blessed  Good-Friday  of  1014,  the  last  savage  invader  was  con- 
quered by  Brian  Borrhoimme  on  the  glorious  field  of  Clontarf,  and 
hurled  headlong  into  the  devouring  sea.  But  the  end  is  not  yet. 
Only  a  century  and  a  half  of  peace,  and  the  nations  again  cry  havoc, 
an.d  let  slip  the  dogs  of  war  upon  the  unhappy  land  of  our  fore- 
fathers. William  the  Conqueror  has  subdued  the  Saxon,  and  the 
Norman  arms  are  triumphant.  Henry  the  Second,  the  first  of  the 
Plantagenets,  has  succeeded  to  the  English  throne.  A  woman,  a  false, 
faithless  woman,  stirs  up  dissensions  among  the  Irish  princes.  To 
the  shame  of  Irish  mothers  be  it  said,  a  perfidious  Irish  woman  was 
the  greatest  curse  of  the  Irish  race  ;  but  to  their  glory  be  it  told 
that  she  is  the  only  woman  of  the  kind  who  figures  in  the  national 
history  of  Ireland.  She  was  the  wife  of  O'Rourke,  prince  of 
Breffiri,  who  eloped  with  the  King  of  Leinster  while  her  husband 
was  abroad  on  a  pilgrimage  of  devotion.     His  return  to  his  deserted 


375 

home,  and  liis  despair,  have  been  embalmed  in  song  by  the  illus- 
trious Thomas  Moore. 

But  to  the  everlasting  honor  of  Erin,  this  unfaithful  wife  and  her 
guilty  paran^^our,  McMur chard,  were  banished  from  the  virtuous  soil 
of  Ireland.  McMurchard  invoked  the  aid  of  Henry  to  reinstate  him 
in  his  kingdom,  and  from  that  hour  the  war  began.  In  1169, 
Strongbow  and  his  group  of  needy  adventurers  landed  on  the  south- 
east coast;  from  that  hour  the  history  of  Ireland  is  written  in  tears 
and  blood;  from  that  hour  the  war  began  which  raged  for  700 
years,  and  which  is  not  yet  closed. 

Ah !  how  the  heart  sickens,  and  the  head  swims,  and  the  eyes 
grow  moist  and  dim  at  the  multiplied  horrors  of  this  long  night  of 
centuries,  during  which  a  tortured  nation  writhed  beneath  the 
merciless  lash  of  a  foreign  foe,  and  stood  forth  in  the  eyes  of  men 
covered  with  stripes  and  bathed  in  blood.  The  battle-axe  and  jave- 
lin of  the  Viking  cleft  many  and  many  an  Irish  skull,  but  the  lance 
and  spear  of  the  Norman  and  bayonet  of  the  Englishman  pierced 
Ireland  to  the  heart.  Ireland  is  become  an  haceldama,  or  field  of 
blood.  Henry  this,  or  Henry  that,  it  is  all  the  same.  Elizabeth, 
CromweU,  Stuart,  changes  not  the  case  nor  makes  the  carnage  cease. 
Ireland,  weeping,  helpless  Ireland,  sees  her  sons  sacrificed;  her  old 
men  slain;  her  priests  mangled,  drawn,  and  quartered;  her  infants 
hfted  on  the  points  of  bayonets,  and  her  virgins  murdered  in  wanton 
ferocity  and  cold  blood.  Cromwell — may  heaven  forgive  Thomas 
Carlyle  the  sin  of  canonizing  this  monster — after  shamelessly  break- 
ing his  sworn  oath  to  give  quarter  to  the  vanquished  army,  not  only 
put  every  man  to  the  sword,  but  commanded  his  brutal  soldiers  to 
transfix  upon  their  bayonets  the  three  hundred  babes  and  virgins, 
who  clung  to  the  Cross  of  Christ  in  Wexford  town  as  to  a  sanctuary 
of  safety,  a  pillar  of  protection. 

* '  They  knelt  around  the  Cross  divine, 

The  matron  and  the  maid  ; 
They  bowed  before  Redemption's  shrine, 

And  fervently  they  prayed. 
Three  hundred  fair  and  helpless  ones, 

Whose  crime  was  this  alone — 
Their  valiant  husbands,  sires,  and  sons. 

Had  battled  for  their  own. 


376 

"  Had  battled  bravely,  but  in  vain, 

The  Saxon  won  the  fight, 
And  Irish  corpses  strewed  the  plain. 

Where  valor  slept  with  might. 
And  now  that  man  of  demon  guilt 

To  fated  Wexford  flew, 
The  red  blood  streaming  on  his  hilt 

Of  hearts  to  Ireland  true. 

' '  He  found  there  the  young,  the  old, 

The  maiden  and  the  wife — 
Their  guardians  brave  in  death  were  cold, 

Who  dared  for  them  the  strife. 
They  prayed  for  mercy,  God  on  high, 

Before  Thy  cross  they  prayed, 
Yet  ruthless  Cromwell  bade  them  die 

To  glut  the  Saxon  blade. 

'  *  Three  hundred  fell — the  stifled  prayer 

Was  quenched  in  woman's  blood; 
Nor  youth  nor  age  could  move  to  spare 

From  slaughter's  crimson  flood. 
But  nations  keep  a  stern  account 

Of  deeds  that  tyrants  do, 
And  guiltless  blood  to  heaven  will  mount, 

And  heaven  avenge  it,  too  1 " 

Yes,  war  everywhere.  War  swept  the  land  with  the  burning" 
besom  of  destruction,  and  like  a  tempest  scattered  devastation  in  its 
path.  War  spattered  the  blood  of  the  Irish  people  tiU,  like  the 
Egyptian  plague  of  old,  it  turned  the  streams  into  blood.  War,  with 
its  fiery  chariot,  overran  all  the  landmarks  of  civilization,  and  with 
its  iron  hoofs  trampled  down  towns,  villages,  cities,  schools,  uni- 
versities, homes,  and  firesides.     But  the  cHmax  had  not  come. 

What  is  man  without  a  home — without  a  piece  of  property  that  he 
can  call  his  own  ?  Accursed  is  the  man  without  a  family  roof-tree 
and  a  stranger  to  domestic  joy.  But  the  confiscation  code  came 
forth.  No  Irishman  and  the  son  of  no  Irishman — unless  he  forsook 
the  faith  of  his  fathers — could  call  one  inch  of  the  land  his  own 
where  he  first  saw  the  living  light.  No  Irishman  could  possess  as 
much  of  the  green  sod  as  would  make  a  grave  for  his  poor,  famished 
body.     No  Irishman  shall  own  a  horse  above  the  value  of  £5.     No 


377 

Irishman  shall  obtain  indemnity  for  any  improvements  made  by  him 
upon  the  land,  but  the  crowbar  brigade  shall  evict  him  at  the  whim 
of  the  landlord,  and  eviction  shall  mean  ruin,  starvation,  and  death. 
No  papist  employer  shall  engage  more  than  two  apprentices,  lest 
Irish  industry  be  unduly  fostered.  Elizabeth  confiscated  600,000 
and  James  I.  2,000,000  acres  of  Irish  soil,  to  rob  the  Irish  owner  and 
put  the  whole  country  in  possession  of  the  Crown.*  In  1663,  1666, 
and  1732,  an  Irishman  was  forbidden  to  export  a  pound  of  beef  or  a 
card  of  wool,  lest  the  English  trade  should  suiffer  any  rivalry. f  Four 
hundred  thousand  acres  were  portioned  out  in  one  month  in  1609 
to  English  proprietors,  without  one  farthing  of  compensation  to  the 
rightful  owners. 

Again  steps  forth  the  law  to  strike  down  personal  liberty  and  en- 
thrall and  enslave  the  nation.  Children  are  torn  from  the  arms  of 
their  parents  and  transported  as  slaves  to  the  Barbadoes,  and  to 
America,  to  leave  the  heart-broken  father  and  mother  at  home,  to 
sink  in  childless  misery  into  the  grave.  There  they  could  bury  their 
grief. 

"O,  mighty  Judge!  O,  just  judgment!"  Shylock's  pound  of 
flesh  is  venial  cupidity  compared  to  the  demands  of  the  English 
"Jew." 

Step  forth  once  again,  ye  lenient  laws — from  the  gi*ist-mill  of  wise 
and  merciful  legislation,  come  forth, — Draconian  in  severity,  Ne- 
ronian  in  atrocity — and  quench  the  light  of  Ireland's  intellect.  No 
Irishman  shall  dare  to  show  his  love  for  learning  by  securing  an  ed- 
ucation for  himself  or  his  children.  He  must  skulk  from  the  light  of 
day  and  flee  from  his  native  land,  if  he  be  guilt}'  of  the  monstrous 
treason  of  seeking  to  improve  the  talents  which  the  God  of  truth 
and  knowledge  has  given  him.  Till  the  time  of  George  m.  Cath- 
olics were  inhibited  by  dire  penalties  from  erecting  schools.  Pain- 
ful and  ludicrous,  but  true  as  life,  was  the  distich  about  the  Hedge 
Schoolmaster: 

*'  Billy  Byrne  was  a  man  of  a  very  great  big  knowledge, 
And  behind  a  quickset  hedge  in  a  bog  he  kept  his  college. " 

What  wonder  that  Edmund  Burke  declared  that  the  whole  code  of 
legislation  was  a  despotism,  so  well  organized  to  oppress  the  people 

*  See  Statutes  of  Elizabeth,  James,  William,  etc. 
f  See  Lecky's  "Leaders  of  Public  Opinion." 


378 

and  disfigure  even  human  nature  itself,  that  nothing  equal  to  it  was 
ever  invented  by  consummate  hypocrisy  or  diabolical  intent.*  No 
Irishman  could  enter  any  of  the  learned  professions,  or  become 
lawyer,  doctor,  clergyman,  or  even  scrivener.  No  Irishman  could 
hold  any  civil  office,  or  any  trust  of  power  or  emolument.  No  Irish- 
man, even  long  centuries  before  the  abolition  of  O'Connell's  forty- 
shilling  freeholders — sad  blunder  of  the  great  Emancipator— could 
exercise  the  right  of  franchise,  or  have  any  elective  voice  in  the  con- 
cerns of  government.  In  a  word,  no  Irishman  could  be  a  citizen  of 
his  own  country,  but  only  an  alien,  an  outcast,  a  pariah  on  his  native 
soil.  For  foi-ty-seven  years  after  Catholics  had  become  eligible  to 
office,  and  political  disabilities  had  been  removed,  not  one  was 
elected  to  the  corporation  of  the  city  of  Dublin,  in  a  community  of 
which  nineteen-twentieths  were  adherents  of  the  proscribed  religion.f 
This  discrimination,  it  should  be  remembered,  was  exercised  against 
a  people  of  whom  Wellington  declared :  "  We  must  acknowledge, 
that  without  the  blood  of  the  Irish  Catholics  and  without  their  cour- 
age, we  could  not  have  won  our  brilliant  victories."^ 

Nor  was  that  all.  Coercion  is  henceforth  conversion.  Come  forth 
again,  ye  laws;  invade  the  conscience  and  uproot  the  morals  of  the 
lawless,  ignorant,  and  cave-dwelling  Irish,  as  James  Anthony  Froude 
affectionately  called  them.  Indeed,  there  is  no  such  thing  as  an 
Irish  conscience;  that 

'  *  Divinity  dwells  not  within  their  breasts. " 

There  is  but  one  religion,  the  religion  of  the  State,  the  religion  of 
King  Harry,  of  good  Queen  Bess.  There  is  but  one  form  of  wor- 
ship, the  worship  of  the  Anglican  establishment,  whose  grinding, 
tithe-exacting  enormities  the  government  had  determined  to  uphold 
at  all  hazards.  The  land  swarmed  with  a  licentious  soldiery,  whose 
libertinism  and  debauchery  transcended  the  corruptions  of  Tyre  or 
^  Gomorrah,  who  ruthlessly  invaded  the  sanctuary  of  the  family,  and 
dedicated  their  days  and  nights  to  Venus  rather  than  to  virtue.  To 
facilitate  this  mighty  moral  perversion,  troops  of  salacious  soldiers 
were  quartered  upon  the  already  famishing  people,  and  every  Irish 
house  was  compelled  to  own  an  EngUsh  master,  whose  lubricity  and 

*  See  Burke's  Speeches.  f  See  Lecky's  **  Leaders  of  Public  Opinion." 

t  See  Hansard,  D.  729. 


379 

stupration  blenched  from  neither  the  flower  of  youth  nor  the  feeble- 
ness of  age.  Laws  were  enacted  to  overturn  the  methods  of  heredi- 
tament and  succession  (not  repealed  till  after  the  American  revolu- 
tion;, to  put  a  premium  on  apostasy,  make  the  son  betray  his  father, 
the  daughter  her  mother,  and  the  brother  his  sister.  And  if  the  for- 
eign landlord,  whose  brutality  often  was  a  disgrace  to  the  basest 
period  of  barbarism,  raised  his  homicidal  hand  and  imbrued  it  in  the 
blood  of  an  Irish  peasant,  he  was  not  amenable  to  any  Irish  tribunal, 
and  no  EngHsh  judicatory  would  convict  him.  The  great  engine  of 
English  legislation  was  invoked  to  grind  into  impalpable  powder  the 
last  remnant  of  the  Irish  race,  and  to  stamp  out  forever  the  mind, 
the  soul,  the  manhood,  the  nationality  of  the  Irish  people.  To  im- 
poverish, barbarize,  and  exterminate,  this  was  the  laudable  aim  of 
every  government  of  the  English  that  held  power  in  Ireland,  whether 
Tudors,  Stuarts,  Cromwellian  Saints,  Puritans,  the  House  of  Orange, 
or  the  House  of  Hanover.  This  irrefragable  fact  challenges  impeach- 
ment. A  distinguished  commoner  like  Mr.  Bright,  moved  by  the 
sense  of  shame  and  justice,  exclaims:  "  It  is  impossible  when  travel- 
ling through  Ireland,  not  to  feel  that  enormous  crimes  have  been 
committed  by  the  various  governments  to  which  the  country  has 
been  subjected."  * 

Then  comes  Cromwell — Cromwell,  whose  name  and  memory  have 
passed  into  a  proverbial  curse, — and  then  with  vengeance  began  im- 
prisonment, transplantation,  expatriation,  exile.  When  the  Protector 
began  his  sanguinary  campaign  in  Ireland,  those  whom  he  could 
not  butcher  he  transported  as  slaves  to  plantations,  to  undergo  the 
horrors  of  English  penal  servitude. 

If  there  is  anything  dear  to  the  heart  of  man,  it  is  unfettered  liberty. 

**  O  !  Liberty,  the  prisoner's  pleasing  dream, 
The  poet's  muse,  his  passion  and  his  theme, 
Homeric  song  from  thy  free  touch  acquires 
Its  clearest  tone,  the  rapture  it  inspires 
Place  where  Winter  breathes  his  keenest  air, 
And  I  will  sing  if  liberty  be  there; 
And  I  will  sing  at  Liberty's  dear  feet, 
In  Af ric's  torrid  clime  or  India's  fiercest  heat. " 

The  thrall  of  bondage  sits  like  a  collar  of  fire  upon  the  neck  of 
*  See  "  Speeches  on  Questions  of  Public  Interest,"  2  vols.     London,  1866. 


380 

freedom,  and  the  yoke  of  subjection  is  more  bitter  to  the  heart  than 
the  apples  of  Sodom  to  the  lips.  God  raised  up  a  great  Deliverer  to 
lead  His  people  out  of  the  land  of  captivity  and  the  house  of  bond- 
age, and  sent  His  angels  to  strike  the  shackles  from  the  limbs  of 
Peter  when  in  prison.  Picture  the  unutterable  sufferings,  the 
dejection,  deep  and  dismal,  of  the  victim  condemned  to  incarceration 
in  the  dungeon  locked  by  tyranny.  Hateful  Darkness  spreads  her 
wings  and  overshadows  him  with  her  sable  paJl.  The  sparkling 
hues  of  tree  and  plant  and  flower  gleam  not  for  him,  and  the  radiant 
beauty  of  leafy  bower  and  shaded  dell  are  excluded  from  his  sight. 
The  music  of  the  flowing  fountain  and  purling  stream  awake  no 
echoes  in  his  soul,  and  the  warm  winds  come  and  go,  and  the  grate- 
ful odors  of  the  balsam-dropping  Spring  and  fragrant  Summer  are 
borne  on  the  breeze,  but  they  cannot  penetrate  the  sodden  vapors  of 
bis  chill  abode.  Funeral-paced  and  slow,  the  melancholy  hours  drag 
along,  like  dirges  for  the  dead,  unspoken  and  unsyllabled.  The 
heart-eating  canker  of  cheerless  solitude  wrings  the  inmost  soul  with 
anguish.  No  sounds  are  heard  but  the  cold  clanking  of  the  chains  ; 
no  voice  of  cheer,  of  comfort,  or  of  gladness  ;  no  kind  words  from 
the  friends  of  yore,  and — have  they  left  him  to  pine  in  oblivion  and 
to  die? 

And  the  spectral  vision  of  the  past  comes  before  the  hag-ridden 
fancy  to  recall  the  burning  memory  of  freedom  now  no  more.  Who 
can  think  the  awful  thoughts  that  fire  that  fevered  brain,  and  the 
sensations  that  course  through  the  hot  current  of  the  feelings.  Per- 
haps, serpent-fanged  Despair  strikes  his  venomous  tooth  into  the 
marrow  of  the  heart,  and  icy  disappointment  congeals  the  blood 
which  flowed  like  lightning  through  the  veins.  Perhaps,  like  Judas, 
he  deplores  the  day  that  he  was  born,  and  curses  the  sun,  the  light, 
the  cradling  air,  which  once  he  wooed  and  revelled  in.  It  may  be 
so  ;  but  who  has  no  shred  of  sympathy  for  one  so  sore-distressed  ; 
no  drop  of  balm  for  one  so  broken-hearted  ;  no  tear  to  shed  upon 
the  graves  of  buried  hopes  and  liberty  thus  lost?  The  English 
government,  which  inflicted,  and  still  inflicts,  the  atrocities  of  prison- 
life  upon  the  Irish  victim  of  its  malevolence,  has  not  one  spark  of 
pity  or  compassion  for  those  subject  to  the  unmitigated  horrors  of 
her  gaols — gaols  in  which  no  distinction  was  ever  made  between  the 
common  convict  and  the  political  prisoner,  but  rather  bore  with 


381 

heavier  severity  upon  the  latter,  and  set  all  considerations  of  human- 
ity at  defiance.* 

Cromwell  raised  the  cry,  "  To  hell  or  to  Connaught  with  the  Irish," 
and  with  characteristic  wit,  which  even  adversity  could  not  cloud, 
they  said  they  would  much  j)refer  to  choose  Connaught  and  give 
Cromwell  undisputed  control  of  the  sulphurous  kingdom.  Under 
pain  of  death  no  Iiishman  could  cross  the  pale,  or  come  within  three 
miles  of  the  lordly  Shamon. 

Thus,  they  turn  their  backs  upon  the  green  meads  and  flowery 
vales  of  the  South  to  face  the  rigors  of  the  rugged,  storm-swept 
North.  Without  any  show  of  legality,  the  plan  of  plantation,  begun 
years  before  by  "  perfidious  Albion,"  was  established  definitely  in 
1609,  and  consummated  by  the  Pretender  in  1649,  after  he  had 
hatched  his  clever  conspiracy  against  his  royal  master  Charles,  and 
set  out  like  Alexander,  "  new  worlds  to  conquer."  f 

Follow  them,  in  spirit,  over  the  bleak,  bare  hills  of  Connemara,  as 
over  fen  and  brake  and  bog,  they  plod  their  weary  way.  Behold 
this  sad  Hegira  of  the  Irish  race,  as  they  pass  along  seeking  no 
Mecca  of  future  hopes,  but  rather  groping  blindly  on  the  gloomy 
path  which  dark  destiny  marked  out  for  them,  in  dreary,  hopeless 
desolation. 

Time  was  when  the  Irish  peasant  had  plenty  ;  when  he  tickled  the 
land  with  a  hoe  and  it  laughed  with  a  harvest ;  when  he  might  say 
with  the  poet  : 

"Then  was  I  a  tree, 
Whose  boughs  did  bend  with  fruit ;  but  in  one  night, 
A  storm,  a  robbery,  call  it  what  you  will, 
Shook  down  my  mellow  hangings,  nay,  my  leaves. 
And  left  me  bare  to  weather."  X 

Yes,  the  day  came  when  the  heel  of  hate  was  stamped  upon  his 
breast ;  when  purple  tyrants  robbed  him  of  his  paternal  acres  and 
cast  him  out  to  die  ;  when  the  "  horrid,  hideous  notes  of  woe,  sadder 
than  owl-songs  on  the  midnight  blast,"  resounded  in  his  ears,  and 

*  See  John  Mitchell's  "  Jail  Journal."  Also  "  Pamell  Movement,"  by  T.  P. 
O'Connor. 

f  See  Miss  Cusack's  "  Case  of  Ireland  ";  Abbe  McGheoghegan's  "History  of 
Ireland  ";  Green's  "  History  of  England." 

X  Shaks. ,  Cymbeline. 


382 

when  the  forebodings  of  his  awful  doom  made  him  feel  like  him 
who  said  : 

"  From  the  full  meridian  of  my  glory 

I  haste  now  to  my  setting  ;  I  shall  fall 

Like  a  bright  exhalation  in  the  evening, 

And  no  man  see  me  more." * 

But  follow  the  despondent  and  broken-hearted  peasantry  to  the 
Golgotha  of  the  Irish  race,  and  behold  the  wreck  of  a  country's 
hopes  as  the  stubborn  and  unconquerable  flame  of  famine  creeps 
through  the  veins  of  the  nation  and  drinks  all  the  streams  of  life. 
See  them, — the  impoverished  people — as  faint  and  weary  they  re- 
cline upon  the  cold  earth,  and  stare,  in  mute  and  speechless  agony, 
at  the  green  sod  which  soon  opens  to  receive  them  into  its  bosom, 
where  "no  man  shall  see  them  more."  Famine,  grim  and  gaunt, 
stalks  through  the  land,  and  death  walks  by  his  side.  Did  he  speak  ? 
What  did  famished  man  say  ? 

"On  the  ground 
Outstretched  he  lay,  on  the  cold  ground,  and  oft 
Cursed  his  creation,  death  as  oft  accused 
Of  tardy  execution." 

He  cannot  stand  erect,  nor  lift  his  eyes  towards  the  heavens  of 
God.  The  air  around  is  stifling  and  suffocating  with  the  odors  of 
putrescent  vegetation.  "  The  air  is  full  of  farewells  to  the  dying 
and  mournings  for  the  dead."  To  the  famine  was  superadded  the 
hon'ors  of  the  plague.  The  fire  of  fever  consumes  what  famine 
spares,  as  the  great  beast  described  by  Daniel  trampled  unto  death 
what  escaped  its  devouring  jaws.  Death  stood  at  the  door  of  every 
hovel,  and  felled  the  wayfarer  by  the  roadside.  He  fastened  his  icy 
fang  upon  the  aged  sire  and  upon  the  prattling  babe  that  sought 
for  sustenance,  which  it  could  not  find,  in  the  dried-up  life-currents 
of  its  starving  mother's  breast.  Mounds  of  the  dead  are  piled 
on  the  highway  waiting  for  burial  that  may  never  come.  The  father 
buries  his  little  child  in  haste  in  a  sh^low  grave,  over  which  no 
funeral  prayers  are  said,  and  no  mother's  tears  are  shed.  Stark  and 
cold  the  mother  was  found  on  the  roadside,  under  the  blue  canopy 
of  heaven,  with  her  dead  babe  upon  her  breast.     Now,  by  the  sol- 

*Shaks.,  Hen.  VIII. 


383 

emn  lake  of  silvery  silence,  they  make  their  bed  of  rest;  in  the  voice- 
less valley  where  they  lie  the  hum  of  earth's  distracting  cares  will 
n^ver  come;  the  gentle  zephyrs  will  sigh,  and  the  wild-bird  will  sing 
in  mournful  music  about  their  final  resting-place;  and  when  the  first 
sunbeams  of  each  returning  Spring  pierces  the  dewy  mold  wherein 
they  lie,  the  pale  snowdrop  and  the  blue  violet  will  bloom  above 
their  grass-grown  graves. 

During  one  decade  of  years,  from  1841  to  1851,  over  250,000  per- 
ished of  the  deadly  fever,  but  how  many  of  the  forlorn  creatures 
who  crawled  out  of  sight  to  die  behind  the  hedges  or  in  the  ditch, 
and  how  many  more  perished  of  hunger  in  these  dismal  years,  will 
never  be  revealed  till  the  books  of  eternity  are  opened  and  the  mul- 
titudinous dead  shall  come  to  life  again.* 

And  be  it  observed,  that  during  all  these  deadly  years  of  famine, 
blight,  and  jfestilence,  cereals  and  grain,  beef  and  bacon  and  mutton 
were  being  exported  in  shiploads  to  feed  the  pampered  plutocrats  of 
England,  while  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands  died  at  home,  in 
the  poorhouse,  the  workhouse,  and  under  the  cold,  clear  sky  of  God. 
How  great  must  be  the  extent  of  a  calamity  which  has  endured  with 
unabated  rigor  for  many  centuries,  may  be  approximately  reckoned, 
when  it  is  remembered  that  during  fifty  years  of  Queen  Victoria's 
reign  alone,  from  1837  to  1887,  1,225,000  died  of  famine;  3,568,000 
were  evicted,  and  4,185,000  were  sent  into  voluntary  or  involuntary 
exile.  *  From  1841  to  1851,  282,000  houses  were  destroyed  by  the 
**  Crowbar  Brigade,"  and  the  wretched  inhabitants  cast  forth  into  the 
pitiless  world,  often  in  the  dead  hour  of  night,  with  hardly  a  rag  to 
their  backs,  and  not  a  sixpence  in  their  hands  to  buy  a  meal  for  the 
morrow.  The  shocking  brutalities  of  these  evicting  landlords,  men 
who  like  Clauricarde  and  Leitrim  were  devoid  not  only  of  pity  and 
compunction,  but  of  the  common  instincts  of  humanity,  are  matter 
of  too  frequent  record  to  need  repetition  here.f 

And  after  all  these  years  of  bhght  and  bale,  of  war,  famine,  and 

*  T.  P.  O'Connor's  " Paragll  Movement";  Sullivan's  "New  Ireland"; 
Gavan  Duffy's  "Four  Years'*;  McGheoghegan  and  Mitchell's  "Hist,  of  Ire- 
land." 

f  For  full  accounts  see  Sullivan's  "New  Ireland  ";  Miss  Cusack's  "Case 
Stated";  G^van  Duffy's  "Four  Years":  T.  D.  McGee's  "Hist,  of  Ireland"; 
Mitchell's  "Hist,  of  Ireland ";  Census  for  Ireland  for  1851,  etc. 


384 

pestilence,  what  do  we  behold  ?  In  the  rayless  night  of  Ireland  we 
see  no  star  of  hope.  A  stupor  and  stolidity  settled  upon  the  people, 
and  they  seemed  like  men  who,  "  weary  with  disasters  and  tugged 
with  foi-tune,"  had  yielded  to  Mistress  Melancholy  and  plunged  into 
irrecoverable  despair.  Like  Milton's  angel,  the  spiritless,  despond- 
ent peasant  might  say: 

"  So  farewell  hope;  and  with  hope  farewell  fear, 
Farewell  remorse;  all  good  to  me  is  lost." 

If  we  turn  towards  the  individual,  we  see  in  his  faltering  countenance 
no  solitary  gleam  of  hope;  if  we  transfer  our  gaze  to  society,  we  see 
no  sign  of  hope.  The  grand  old  Irish  Church,  which  kept  aHve  the 
lamp  of  faith  in  storm  and  persecution,  the  foster-mother  of  science 
and  sanctity,  of  piety  and  learning,  droops  and  pines— she  is  all  but 
dead.  The  seers  and  the  sages,  the  minstrels  and  the  bards,  the 
scalds,  the  ollahams,  and  the  wise  men  of  old,  are  gone — they  are 
dead.  Poets,  philosophers,  chieftains,  princes — aU  are  gone.  That 
old  Celtic  race,  which,  like  an  irresistible  torrent,  swept  down  from 
the  crest  of  the  Asiatic  Continent,  built  kingdoms  on  its  march,  and 
having  traversed  the  earth,  again  rolled  back  its  impetuous  tide  to 
the  Caspian  and  Euxine  Sea — that  race  which  once  overawed  all 
Europe — that  race  which  never  crouched  before  the  foe  and  never 
bowed  the  knee  to  Dane,  Saxon,  Norman,  or  Eoman,  has  disappeared; 
one  shattered  remnant  alone  remains  upon  the  hills  of  Connaught, 
but  within  them  lives  the  old,  undying,  Celtic  spirit  of  resistance, 
unshaken  as  the  pyramids  of  Egypt,  immovable  as  the  pillar  of 
Trojan  on  the  eternal  soil  of  Rome,  unconquerable  as  the  eternal 
hills  of  God. 

During  these  gloomy  periods  of  disaster  it  was,  that  the  everlast- 
ing exodus  of  the  Irish  people  began,  which  has  flowed  on  with  an 
almost  regularly  ascending  ratio,  until  within  the  last  few  decades. 
It  was  a  heartrending  scene  that  was  witnessed  by  many  a  moistened 
eye,  as  band  after  band  of  these  refugees  began  to  wend  their  way 
towards  the  black  emigrant  ship  which  was  to  carry  them  to  other 
scenes  and  other  climes.  'Tis  sweet  to  place  our  hand  in  memory's 
and  stroll  down  by  the  shores  of  the  past,  to  recall  the  old  familiar 
faces,  companions  of  our  morning-time,  when  life  was  all  one  sun- 
bright  holiday  and  earth  was  half  divine.     The  memory  of  departed 


385 

joy  may  temper  present  sorrow,  and  the  future  is  hallowed  by  the 
lingering  halo  of  the  past.  But  it  is  hard  to  say  fareweU  forever;  to 
leave  behind  forevermore  the  scenes  of  youth — the  brooks,  the 
meads,  the  flowers,  the  lowly  thatched  cottage,  the  church  where 
some  were  wont  to  worship,  and  many.,  too.  were  wed.  No  wonder 
that  old  man,  whose  silvery  locks  and  pinched  countenance  told  of 
toil  and  pain  at  home,  yet  reverently  stooped  to  kiss  the  door-siU,  as 
he  passed  out  forever.* 

**  Home,  kindred,  friends,  and  country — ^these 

Are  ties  with  which  we  never  part; 
From  clime  to  clime,  o'er  land  and  seas, 

We  bear  them  with  us  in  our  heart: 
But  'tis  hard  to  feel  resigned, 
When  these  must  all  be  left  behind." 

The  love  of  country  is  the  darling  affection  of  the  human  heart. 
Dark  and  cold  as  the  chambers  of  the  tomb  is  the  soul  of  him  who 
feels  not  his  heart  throb  and  his  pulses  thriU  when  the  sacred 
memories  of  home  and  childhood  crowd  back  upon  the  mind  to 
retrospection  given.  What  can  bid  the  dear  emotions  start,  and  the 
unbidden  tear  gather  in  the  eye,  like  the  fond  recollection  of  the 
past.  God  pity  the  man,  and  God  pity  the  people,  whom  hard 
necessity,  cruel  fate,  or  brutal  tyranny  drives  far  away  from  the  spot 
where  he  was  born,  passed  the  sunny  days  of  childhood  and  ripened 
into  manhood's  sterner  reign,  and  sends  him  forth  a  broben-hearted 
refugee,  a  sad,  dejected  child  of  despair,  upon  unfriendly  and  in- 
hospitable shores. 

Hard  and  bitter  is  the  fate  of  the  involuntary  exile !  In  silent 
sadness  he  broods  over  his  unhappy  fate,  and  his  son*ow  is  all  but 
inconsolable.  The  hueless  heaven  up  to  which  he  looks  curtains  out 
from  view  the  kingly  glory  of  the  sun,  and  the  melancholy  earth 
shades  the  rosy  hours  in  wide-extended  gloom.  The  upbroken 
dreams  of  boyhood's  span,  the  hope  deferred  that  maketh  the 
heart  sick,  the  inhumanity  of  man  to  man,  the  curse  of  oppression 
and  the  blight  of  wrong,  come  down  like  dismal  night  upon  the  ex- 
ile's feelings  and  turn  this  bright  world,  so  redolent  of  bloom,  into  a 
lazar-house  of  tears  and  mourning. 

*  Incident  told  of  an  eviction:  T.  P.  O'Connor's  "Pamell  Movement." 
25 


386 

"  Weep  not  the  brave  dead, 

Weep  rather  the  living, 
On  them  lies  the  curse 

Of  a  doom  unforgiving. 
Each  dark  cloud  that  rolls 

Shall  the  miseries  they  nurse 
Like  molten,  hot  lead 

Burn  into  their  souls 
A  grief  long  and  sore."  * 

Euntes  ibant  etfiehant.  Going  forth,  they  wept  as  they  went,  be- 
cause they  went  in  sorrow — sorrow  so  deep  that  the  angels  of  God 
looked  down  in  pity  and  traced  their  footsteps  by  their  tears,  f  We 
can  well  conceive  how  piercing  was  the  heart-breaking  cry  of  the 
aged  father,  bowed  with  years  and  grief,  and  of  the  kind  and  loving 
Irish  mother,  when,  for  the  last  time  on  earth,  perhaps,  they  grasped 
the  hand  of  son  or  daughter,  and  with  a  voice  broken  with  emotion, 
they  gasped  rather  than  uttered  those  good  old  Saxon  words — Good- 
bye !  God  bless  you !  The  poet  has,  with  truly  pathetic  feeling, 
painted  the  emotion  of  the  emigrant  upon  bidding  adieu  to  his 
native  shore  : 

"  Adieu  !  the  snowy  sail 
Swells  her  bosom  to  the  gale, 
And  our  bark  from  Innisfail 
Bounds  away. 

*'  While  we  gaze  upon  thy  shore. 
That  we  never  shall  see  more, 
And  the  blinding  tears  flow  o'er, 

We  pray :  , 

"  Mavourneen,  be  thou  long, 
In  peace  the  queen  of  song, 
In  battle  proud  and  strong 
As  the  sea. 

"Be  saints  thine  offspring  still — 
True  heroes  guard  each  hill. 
And  harps  by  every  rill, 
Sound  free ! 

*  J.  C.  Mangan.  f  Rt.  Rev.  Geo.  Conroy's  Lectures. 


387 

•'  Though  glowing  breasts  may  be 
In  soft  vales  beyond  the  sea, 
Yet  ever,  Gra  Machree, 
Shall  I  waU. 

*•  For  the  heart  of  love  I  leave, 
In  the  dewy  hours  of  eve, 
On  the  stormy  shores  to  grieve, 
Innisfail ! 

"  But  mem'ry  o'er  the  deep. 
On  her  dewy  wing  shall  sweep. 
When  at  midnight  hour  I  weep 
O'er  thy  wrongs. 

"  And  bring  me,  steeped  in  tears. 
The  dead  flowers  of  other  years. 
And  waft  unto  mine  ears 
Home's  songs. 

"  Tho'  round  her  Indian  bowers 
The  hand  of  nature  showers 
The  brightest  blooming  flowers 
Of  our  sphere ; 

"  Yet,  not  the  richest  rose, 
In  an  alien  clime  that  blows. 
Like  the  brier  at  home  that  grows. 
Is  dear. 

"  When  I  slumber  in  the  gloom 
Of  a  nameless,  foreign  tomb. 
By  the  distant  ocean's  boom, 
Innisfail ! 

' '  Around  thy  em'rald  shore, 
May  the  clasping  sea  adore. 
And  each  wave  in  thunder  roar. 
All  hail ! 

'•  And  when  the  final  sigh 
Shall  bear  my  soul  on  high. 
And  on  chainless  wing  I  fly 
Thro'  the_blue  ; 

"  Earth's  latest  thought  shall  be. 
As  I  soar  above  the  sea — 
Green  Erin,  dear,  to  thee, 
Adieu!" 


388 

Into  every  land  tliey  went,  the  best  and  bravest  of  Ireland's  sons, 
to  win  that  bread  which  a  landed  oligarchy  and  an  oppressive  govern- 
ment denied  to  them  at  home.  When  the  Irish  asked  for  bread,  the 
English  gave  them,  not  stones,  indeed,  but  powder.  "  Trust  in  God 
and  keep  your  powder  dry  "  was  a  mot  of  Cromwell's  which  must 
have  been  inspired  by  anticipated  conflict  with  the  "  wild  Irish,"  as 
€ven  the  author  of  the  "  Fairie  Queen  "  loved  to  style  the  victims  of 
'"  base,  brutal,  and  bloody  "  England. 

But  wherever  they  went,  they  won,  not  bread,  but  battles.  On  the 
sunny  shores  of  Spain  they  upheld  the  banners  of  glorious  victory, 
and  proved  the  invincible  valor  of  Irish  arms.  The  great  battle  of 
Bannockburn,  by  which  the  Scots  established  their  independence, 
under  the  immortal  Bruce,  was  won  largely  by  the  aid  of  the  Irish, 
as  the  "  Father  of  English  Poetry  "  testifies  : 

■"  To  Albion,  Scots,  we  ne'er  would  yield — 
The  Irish  bowmen  swept  the  field." 

It  was  for  the  fair  flag  of  France,  however,  and  the  good  old  mon- 
arch Louis  XV.,  that  the  Irish  poured  out  their  best  blood  and  won 
imperishable  renown.  During  the  wars  of  the  Spanish  succession 
Marshal  Saxe  won  his  spurs.  When  the  French  were  pitted  against 
the  English,  Dutch,  and  Austrians  at  Tournay,  Saxe  was  in  command. 
Animated  by  the  presence  of  Louis,  the  French,  who  had  besieged 
the  city,  prepared  to  meet  the  bloody  Duke  of  Cumberland,  who, 
with  50,000  allies,  came  to  raise  the  siege  and  rout  the  French. 
They  met  upon  the  slopes  of  Fontenoy.  The  battle  raged  with  vary- 
ing fortune  through  the  day.  Thrice  the  English  veterans  assaulted 
Fontenoy,  and  thrice  they  were  repulsed.  At  length,  as  the  shadows 
of  evening  thickened,  the  English,  goaded  on  to  desperation,  formed 
a  wedge-like  column,  six  thousand  strong,  and  marched  through  the 
town  right  into  the  very  centre  of  the  French  lines.  On  they  came, 
like  a  wall  of  adamant,  with  incredible  gallantry,  but  unshaken,  un- 
dismayed. In  vain  did  the  French  oppose  them.  **  Bomb-shell,  and 
grape,  and  round-shot  tore,  still  on  they  marched  and  fired."  They 
bore  down  all  before  them.  They  scaled  the  bodies  of  the  dying 
and  the  dead.  In  vain  Louis  orders  up  his  household  cavalry ; 
they  go  down,  like  chaff  before  the  wind,  and  are  swept  away  in  a 
flame   of  living  fire.     The  fortune  of  the  day  is  almost  decided, 


389 

and  decided  against  the  French.  King  Louis  turns  his  rein  to  seek 
safety  in  flight,  and  Saxe  calls  out  :  "  Not  yet,  my  Lord,  the  Irish 
troops  remain."  Then,  with  a  wild,  heroic  shout,  the  Irish  Brigade 
comes  up,  and  with  headlong  impetuosity  dashes  upon  their  Saxon 
foes.  The  onset  is  for  a  moment.  Old  Albion's  lines  begin  to  reel 
and  stagger, — like  a  hot  blast  from  hell  the  Irish  musketry  mows 
them  down  ; — they  waver,  shake,  and  tremble  ;  break,  scatter,  turn, 
and  fly.  The  smoke  clears  away,  and  the  blood-red  sun  looks  down 
in  angry  splendor  upon  the  field  of  death. 

No  nation  under  heaven  has  been  subject  to  such  vicissitudes  of 
fortune  as  the  Irish ;  but  despite  all  that  fate  could  do,  or  oppression 
accomplish,  her  virtue  only  shone  with  greater  splendor  and  her 
faith  rose  triumphant  over  every  assault  and  remained  to  her,  a  con- 
solation and  a  hope  in  her  darkest  hour,  without  shadow  of  change 
or  alteration.  She  could  always  turn  her  eyes  towards  a  sad,  but 
honorable  and  glorious  past.  The  glory  of  her  faith  was  never  tar- 
nished; a  faith  which  no  poison  could  pollute,  no  power  pervert,  and 
neither  menace  nor  cajolement,  threat  nor  flattery,  ever  cause  to 
waver  ;  a  faith  which  was  her  solace  in  every  tribulation,  for  though 
sorrow  had  fallen  upon  her  as  upon  the  daughter  of  Sion,  yet,  mute 
and  chained,  and  captive  as  she  was,  she  could  still  find  place  in  her 
heart  for  the  roses  of  bright  joy  in  the  possession  of  that  abiding, 
indestructible  religion  which  had  been  planted  ineradicably  in  her 
heart  by  him  who,  as  he  was  the  first  to  preach  the  Gospel  of  peace 
upon  her  mountains,  so  shall  he  always  pray  that  God  may  never 
suffer  him  to  lose  the  dear-loved  people  whose  salvation  was  first 
entrusted  to  Saint  Patrick's  hands.  Yes,  her  lot  has  been  the  hard 
one  of  the  down-trodden  and  oppressed  ;  her  mantle  has  for  cen- 
turies been  woven  with  the  tangled  threads  of  misery  and  woe  ;  her 
robes  have  too  often  been  reddened  into  scarlet  by  the  heart's  blood 
of  her  children,  and  even  now  the  rainbow  of  hope  but  dimly  shines 
in  the  sky  of  her  future.     But,  although 

*'  Decay's  effacing  fingers 
Have  swept  the  lines  where  beauty  lingers"; 

although  the  red  hand  of  ruin  applied  the  fagot,  the  torch,  and  the 
battle-axe  to  all  the  monuments  which  religion  and  civilization  had 
reared  throughout   the   land  ;  although  few  circumstances  in  the 


390 

annals  of  any  nation  can  compare  with  the  debasement  and  degrada- 
tion to  which  the  people  were  reduced  by  the  long  night  of  misrule 
and  tyranny  ;  although  her  fine  art,  her  learning,  her  architecture, 
had  progressively  declined  under  the  never-ebbing  flood  of  invasion, 
till  some  Irish  emigre  in  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth  century 
might,  like  Caius  Marius  in  the  past  upon  the  ruins  of  ancient  Carth- 
age, take  his  stand  upon  the  mouldering  columns  of  his  country's 
former  grandeur,  and  view,  with  tear-dimmed  eyes,  their  "  splendid 
desolation"; — still  Irish  hope  was  indestructible  and  Irish  faith  was 
imperishable  as  the  God  whose  throne  is  fixed  in  the  eternities.  If 
virtue  in  distress  and  vice  in  triumph,  as  some  one  says,  incUnes 
men  to  irreligion,  adversity  only  gave  new  glory  to  the  Irish  faith, 
and  in  the  darkest,  dre£iriest  hours  of  his  nation's  calamity,  the 
Irishman's  love  for  the  religion  of  his  forefathers  only  flamed  forth 
more  ardently,  his  practice  of  the  domestic  virtues  continued 
undiminished,  and  like  flowers  shaded  from  the  storm,  they  bloomed 
under  his  lowly  roof-tree  ;  his  undying  love  for  his  native  land  was 
never  cooled,  but  waxed  the  warmer,  nor  was  his  hope  destroyed 
that  her  banners  would  one  day  be  crowned  with  the  shining  signet 
of  success,  that  the  psean  of  emancipation  would  be  told  by  every 
tongue,  as  her  embattled  hosts  marched  on  to  victory,  sustained 
by  the  righteousness  of  a  holy  cause  and  supported  by  the  all-con- 
quering arm  of  the  God  of  battles. 

We  have  stood  by  at  the  burial  and  mourned  over  the  grave;  let 
us  rejoice  in  the  resurrection  of  the  Irish  race.  Yes;  the  old  race 
was  practically  dead,  but  she  has  come  forth  again  a  thing  of  life 
and  beauty,  that  still  preserves  a  vital  power  unconscious  of  decay. 
It  is  still  the  same  old  time-conquering,  death-defying  race.  The 
eloquent  words  of  one  of  her  own  sons  are,  though  spoken  of  him- 
self, much  befitting  the  checkered  but  changeless  disposition  and 
history  of  this  gallant  people: 

"  Friends  and  fellow-countrymen :  The  dead  leaves  of  the  Fall  re- 
produce themselves  in  the  blossoms  of  the  Spring.  The  eagle  casts  his 
feathers  but  to  renew  them  for  a  bolder  flight  in  the  eye  of  the  sun. 
By  means  of  death  itself  the  tomb  is  peopled  with  youth  in  shining 
robes,  and  the  mortal  puts  on  immortality.  All  seeming  change — all 
stiQ  the  same.  With  such  feelings  I  am  here  this  day.  As  though 
no  night  had  intervened;  as  though  no  cheiished  hopes  had  fallen 


391 

to  the  eaxtb  like  withered  leaves  across  my  path;  as  though  no  sea 
had  borne  me  from  the  garden-fields  of  my  earlier  life  to  the  forest 
solitudes  in  which  my  summer  days  grew  dark;  as  though  no  star 
had  fallen  from  the  heaven  up  to  which  I  looked;  as  though  my 
home  had  not  become  a  vacant  place,  voiceless,  lampless,  and  hung 
with  mourning;  as  though  no  calamity  had  come  upon  me,  bowed 

my  head  and  chafed  my  spirit — I  am  here  this  day The  same, 

friends,  as  when,  ten  summers  since,  I  stood  among  the  people  of 
my  native  country,  beside  my  native  river,  in  the  shadow  of  my 
native  mountains — still  the  same,  as  when,  joining  in  the  surging 
chorus  of  th§  awakening  nations,  I  invoked  the  gallant  jealousy  and 
love  of  the  young  Democracy  to  arms,  and  from  arms  to  liberty ! 
Still  the  same  as  when  I  stood  upon  the  summit  of  a  gray  mountain 
in  my  native  south,  and  from  thence,  looking  down,  I  beheld  the 
glittering  waves  of  com  as  they  rose  and  fell  in  the  valley,  and  the 
rock  crowned  with  the  chapel,  and  the  cathedral,  and  the  tall  tower 
of  ancient  days  in  the  blue  haze  beyond  me,  and  I  called  upon  the 
people  there,  with  companions  dear  to  me,  though  absent  now,  to 
strike  one  blow  for  the  land  which  gave  such  abundant  promises  for 
the  future,  and  recollections  so  impressive  and  inspiring  of  the  past. 
What  I  was  then,  I  am  now," 

Yes,  the  elasticity  of  the  Celtic  spirit  has  enabled  it  to  surmount 
every  sorrow  and  subdue  every  grief;  the  versatility  and  the  inborn 
brightness  of  the  Celtic  mind  has  coped  successfully  with  every 
calamity  and  defeated  all  disaster;  the  amiable  charm  of  the  Celtic 
character  has  captivated  its  own  captors,  and  the  sterling  goodness 
of  the  Celtic  heart  has  melted  down  mountains  of  social  prejudice 
and  racial  hatred  the  world  over;  and  these  several  qualities  com- 
bined, have  contributed  to  the  conservation  of  the  Celtic  race,  so 
that  it  has  become  a  phenomenon  among  the  nations.  Once  again 
the  ancient  nation  lifts  her  shining  brow  above  the  ocean  of  her 
tears  and  sorrows,  and  no  human  agency  can  efface  the  super- 
scription of  success  which  the  Almighty  has  sealed  upon  her  fore- 
head. She  impressed  the  nations  in  the  past,  in  the  heyday  of  her 
glory,  with  the  geniality  of  her  temper,  no  less  than  with  the  genius 
of  her  mind,  and  what  shall  hinder  the  exertion  of  her  matchless 
power  again?  Yes;  she  was  dead,  lifeless;  dead  to  art,  science, 
trade,  commerce,  education,  religious  liberty,  civilization.     She  was 


prone  in  the  dust — prostrated  by  war,  famine,  plagues,  treachery, 
and  oppression;  but  she  has  put  by  the  cerements  of  the  tomb,  the 
bandages  of  death,  and  come  forth  to  life,  reanimated,  reawakened, 
and  recalled  to  a  new,  a  shining,  and  a  glorious  resurrection.  We 
beheld  her,  like  Proserpine,  banished  from  the  light  of  day  to  the 
Plutonian  shores  of  national  obHvion;  we  saw  her,  like  Eachel, 
mourning  those  who  were  not;  and,  like  Niobe,  over  her  slain  chil- 
dren, weeping  herself  to  stone;  we  gazed  on  her,  like  a  modem 
Prometheus,  chained  to  the  cold  rock  of  slavery,  and  the  vultures  of 
tyranny  festering  in  her  flesh;  and  we  found  her,  "like  (Edipus,  in 
the  tragedy  of  Sophocles,  her  light  turned  into  a  dark  cloud,  her 
eyes  plucked  out,  and  her  eyeballs  dripping  with  blood,  as,  turned 
out  from  among  the  nations,  she  cried  in  wail  and  lamentation  : 

** '  Alas  !  alas  !    Ah  !  me,  unfortunate  ! 
Whither  in  the  world  am  I  going  ? 
Ah  !  me,  oppressed  with  night, 
Unseen,  untold,  unwelcome  ! ' " 

But  the  continental  wars  came;  and  the  American  Revolution 
came;  and  the  spirit  of  '98  came;  and  Grattan's  glorious  volunteers 
came;  and  the  British  Lion  roared  in  vain,  as  he  heard  the  crashing 
blows  struck  to  break  the  clanking  chains  upon  the  fettered  limbs  of 
Erin. 

Then  God  raised  up  a  great  Deliverer,  of  strong  and  smiting  hand, 
to  rend  asunder  the  remaining  gyves,  and  gain  unfettered  liberty. 
A  man  he  was  of  giant  genius  and  mighty  mind,  whom  W.  E.  Glad- 
stone pronounced  to  be  the  greatest  popular  leader  the  world  ever 
saw.  A  man  of  his  time  and  people,  who,  like  another  Moses,  led  his 
people  out  of  bondage  into  the  promised  land  of  liberty,  and  who,  if 
he  found  his  nation  dead  and  buried,  put  forth  his  good  right  hand 
and  rolled  away  the  stone  from  the  door  of  her  sepulchre.  A  man 
who  broke  his  imperial  heai*t  with  love  for  his  native  land.  A  man 
who  thundered  forth  his  claims  for  justice  with  an  impassioned  elo- 
quence that  shook  the  British  throne.  A  man  who,  with  no  weapon 
but  that  of  truth,  and  no  sword  but  that  of  right,  struck  with  one 
blow  the  shackles  of  religious  thralldom  from  the  minds  and  hearts 
of  7,000,000  of  Irishmen,  and  restored  to  them,  by  the  genius  of  eman- 
cipation in  1827,  the  right  to  worship  God  according  to  the  teachings 


393 

of  their  faitb  and  the  dictates  of  their  consciences.  And  this  man 
the  whole  Irish  race  will,  to  the  latest  posterity  and  the  last  stroke  of 
time,  revere  and  bless  as  the  greatest  benefactor  of  his  people,  in 
the  person  of  the  illustrious  and  incomparable  Liberator,  Daniel 
O'ConneU. 

What  then?  Was  the  Irish  race  dead?  Was  it  compressed 
within  a  little  comer  of  its  native  country  ?  Was  it  sent  to  Con- 
naught,  or  to  hell?  Behold,  it  lives  again  !  Its  ramifications  over- 
spread the  earth,  and  its  expansibility  is  invariably  extending.  Was 
it  divided,  decimated,  subjugated  ?  To-day  it  is  united  in  the  bonds 
of  amity  and  concord;  its  political  factions,  owning  different  leader- 
ship, have  one  common  aim;  and  what  has  not  transpired,  with  such 
absolute  unanimity,  since  the  Council  of  Cashel,  in  1172,  divided 
them,  bishops,  priests,  and  people  are  at  one — one  in  hope,  one  in 
faith,  one  in  political  aspiration,  one  in  confidence  for  the  future. 
Was  the  Irish  race  deprived  of  home  and  country  ?  To-day  it  has  a 
home  in  every  land.  To-day  there  is  an  Ireland  in  America;  New 
England  has  become  New  Ireland;  the  Boston  of  the  Winthrops  and 
the  Mathers  is  become  the  Boston  of  the  O'Donohues  and  the 
O'Briens.  There  is  an  Ireland  in  Canada,  another  in  Australia, 
another  in  South  Africa,  and  there  still  remains  the  proud  and  pro- 
lific mother  of  them  all,  to  send  forih  new^  colonies  and  scatter  the 
seeds  of  Irish  manhood  over  all  the  earth.  Was  the  race  denied  the 
right  to  educate  herself  ?  Was  it  sought  to  enslave  her  in  the  bonds 
of  ignorance,  to  blight  her  conscience,  to  corrupt  her  morals  ?  Iiish 
purity  is  still  proverbial;  Irish  conscience  is  still  a  synonjra  of  honor 
and  fidelity;  Irish  intellect* is  barred  from  no  field  of  desirable  en- 
deavor, but  is  a  passport  to  power,  to  prefennent,  nay  to  distinction 
and  to  glory,  from  zone  to  zone  and  from  pole  to  pole,  in  the  wide 
circuit  of  the  world. 

So  much  for  the  past;  what  shall  the  future  be  ?  Shall  the  old 
land  renew  her  strength  like  the  eagle,  and  like  the  giant  go  rejoicing 
on  her  course  ?  Has  she  reached  the  meridian  of  her  glory,  and 
does  her  sun  now  haste  towards  its  setting  ?  Must  her  horoscope  be 
cast,  with  the  shades  of  stellar  and  solar  eclipse  around  her,  \)y  with 
the  heavenly  luminaries  in  a  blaze  of  glory  ?  The  signs  of  the  ftmes, 
as  we  read  them  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic,  are  brighter  and  more 
favorable  than  ever  since 


394 

"  The  fatal  chain  was  o'er  them  cast 
And  they  were  men  no  more." 

But  the  present  Home  Kule  bill  does  not  meet  the  expectations  of 
the  Irish  people.  It  falls  short  in  the  character  of  nearly  all  of  its  pro- 
visions. It  is  a  monstrous  delusion.  It  makes  the  Irish  Parlia- 
ment a  puppet  of  the  Queen  and  her  agents  in  Ireland.  The  Glad- 
stonian  Local  Government  biU  is  not  even  a  middling  counterpoise  to 
Home  Kule,  and  what  it  gives  with  one  hand  it  takes  away  with  the 
other.  It  has  been  epigrammatically  said,  that  it  is  more  remarkable 
for  the  powers  which  it  does  not  give,  than  for  those  which  it  gives 
to  the  new  Parliament.  Its  fiscal  functions  are  shamefully  limited; 
it  has  no  control  over  the  militia  or  the  constabulary;  it  is  in  no  true 
sense  independent  or  autonomous,  but  is  gagged  and  bound  to  the 
British  juggernaut  so  securely  that  it  must  go  down  to  death.  Will 
this  grudging,  scanty,  and  ill-furnished  scheme  obtain  the  support, 
or  even  countenance,  of  the  Eedmondites,  and  those  who  look  on 
Ireland  as  a  nation  ?  Shall  it  be  smashed  upon  its  passage  ?  These 
are  momentous  questions,  and  perhaps  fraught  with  peril  to  Ireland. 
Gladstone  and  John  Morley,  it  has  been  said,  are  the  only  genuine 
friends  of  Irish  Home  Rule  in  the  English  Liberal  party.  And  if 
John  Eedmond  refuses  his  support  to  the  present  measure — what 
then  ?  We  wait  and  hope.  If  the  "  old  man  eloquent,"  who  for 
seven  years,  through  good  and  evil  report,  despite  the  opposition  of 
foes  and  the  cowardly  desertion  of  friends,  has  remained  the  staunch 
and  steadfast  friend  of  Ireland — if  he  should  terminate  his  mortal 
career  before  the  issue  is  determined,  wiU  the  cup  of  Ireland's  hope 
be  dashed  from  her  lips  just  when  the  long-deferred  day  of  fulfil- 
ment seemed  at  hand  ? 

Ah  !  who  wiU  take  away  the  hope  of  Ireland  ?  Dum  spiro,  spero. 
Hope  is  the  sheet-anchor  of  the  soul;  hope  is  God's  morning  star; 
hope  is  the  only  heaven  of  an  oppressed  people  upon  this  dreary 
earth.  May  we,  then,  not  hope; — hope  soon  to  see  a  rift  in  the 
clouds,  and  a  gleam  of  the  old  sunburst  smiling  in  the  sky  some 
bright  summer's  morning;  hope  to  see  her  sons  awake  in  justice, 
power,  *and  truth,  and  stand  a  wall  of  fire  around  the  much-loved 
isle;  hope  to  see  the  light  of  liberty  dawning,  as  the  aurora  of  her 
resurrection  gilds  the  gloom  around  her;  hope  to  hear  the  sacred 
song  of  freedom  re-echoing  among  her  ancient  hills;  hope  to  see  a 


395 

genuine  Parliament  take  its  seat  in  College  Green,  where  Irish  laws 
shall  be  made  by  Irish  intellects,  for  the  benefit  of  Irishmen;  when 
bounding  along  on  the  billows  of  national  prosperity  and  independ- 
ence, the  dying  injunction  of  her  martyr  hero  shall  be  heeded,  and 
the  people  of  Ireland  shall  salute,  with  eyes  of  rapture,  the  spirit  of 
Emancipation,  as  she  walks  around  the  sea-begirdled  shores  of 
Ireland. 


ly. 

LECTURE  ON  CHARITY. 

FOR   THE    BENEFIT    OF   THE    ST.   VINCENT  DE  PAUL    SOCIETY, 
ST.   JAMES'    CHURCH,   NEWARK,   N.   J. 

I  AM  come  here  to-niglit  to  plead  the  cause  of  Christian  charity. 
And  what  is  charity  ? 

"  It  is  not  the  gift  that  ostentation  bestows, 
Nor  the  tear  that  from  sentiment  languidly  flows, 
Nor  the  cushion  that's  spread  for  a  purple-robed  guest. 
Nor  the  bidding  the  wealthy  and  proud  to  a  feast. 

"  But  ask  of  the  Gospel — its  pages  have  said 
It  is  love  to  the  creatures  your  Maker  has  made  ; 
And  if  in  the  heart  the  good  tree  taketh  root 
It  will  shed  o'er  the  life  its  most  beautiful  fruit. 

"  'Tis  the  little  'address '  in  the  wiping  a  tear  ; 
'Tis  the  whisper  of  hope  in  the  desolate  ear  ; 
'Tis  the  smile  of  encouragement  given  to  one 
Whom  malign  degradation  has  marked  for  its  own, 

"  'Tis  the  answer  that  turns  away  anger  and  wrath  ; 
^Tis  the  hand  that  strews  roses  in  misery's  path  ; 
'Tis  the  foot  that  treads  softly  the  chamber  of  pain  ; 
'Tis  the  gift  that  the  giver  expects  not  again. 

"  'Tis  the  word  that  is  said  in  an  absent  one's  praise, 
Or  to  save  from  dishonor,  distrust,  or  disgrace  ; 
'Tis  the  thought  that  would  wound  never  uttered  in  jest, 
The  apology  urged,  the  fault  frankly  confessed. 

"  'Tis  the  hiding  what  others  would  not  wish  revealed  ; 
'Tis  a  friend's  secret  error  forever  concealed, 
And  in  every  transaction  that's  open  to  view 
'Tis  to  act  as  you'd  wish  others  acted  to  you." 


397 

Charity,  therefore,  my  friends,  is  simply  the  love  of  Christ  reign- 
ing in  the  human  heart,  and  moving  it  to  deeds  of  mercy  and  be- 
nevolence. Charity  is  the  spirit  of  religion  actively  pervading  the 
human  race,  to  assuage  misery,  to  relieve  distress,  and  to  link  to- 
gether, by  its  golden  bonds,  the  whole  family  of  mankind  in  one 
common  brotherhood  of  sympathy  and  affection.  Charity  is  identical 
with  benevolence  and  love,  and  it  is  the  term  constantly  employed 
in  Holy  Writ  to  signify  all  the  good  affections  which  we  ought  to 
bear  to  one  another.  And  true  charity  is  an  active  principle.  It  is 
not  limited  to  that  indolent  good-nature  which  bears  malice  towards 
none,  but  is  of  no  particular  service  to  any.  It  consists  not  in  those 
barren  and  purely  speculative  ideas  of  general  benevolence.  Nor  is 
charity  a  solitary  viriue,  but  rather  the  crown  and  splendor  and 
flower  of  them  all.  It  is  a  living  well-spring,  or  fountain  of  the 
heart,  from  which  gush  forth,  like  so  many  native  streams,  the  bright 
virtues  of  generosity,  forbearance,  patience,  candor,  liberality,  pity, 
tenderness,  and  sweet  compassion.  Charity  warms  our  esteem  and 
complacency  for  our  friends  ;  it  inspires  us  towards  our  enemies 
with  forgiveness  and  humanity.  It  dictates  gentleness  of  temper, 
and  forms  affability  of  manners.  It  prompts  corresponding  sym- 
pathies with  those  who  rejoice,  and  similar  feelings  with  those  who 
weep.  It  breathes  universal  candor  and  liberaUty  of  sentiment.  It 
teaches  us  to  slight  and  despise  no  man.  It  rests  not  on  those 
fine  speculations  which  float  through  the  mind  and  leave  the  heart 
untouched  and  cold. 

It  is  the  reconciler  of  differences,  the  intercessor  for  offenders,  the 
protector  of  the  oppressed,  and  the  comforier  of  the  afflicted.  It  is 
loyalty  in  the  subject,  moderation  in  the  ruler,  equity  in  the  judge, 
public  spirit  in  the  citizen,  and  fidehty  in  the  friend.  In  children  it 
is  reverence  and  obedience  ;  in  parents  it  is  care  and  affection.  In 
fine,  charity  is  the  soul  of  social  life.  It  is  the  sun  that  enhvens  and 
cheers  the  abodes  of  men.  "  It  is  like  the  dew  of  Hermon,"  says  the 
Psalmist,  "  and  the  dew  that  descendeth  on  the  mountains  of  Sion, 
where  the  Lord  commanded  the  blessing,  even  life  forevermore  " 
(Ps.  cxxxiii.  3). 

Such  charity  as  this,  the  Apostle  says,  is  the  "  end  of  the  com- 
mandment," "  the  fulfiUing  of  the  law,"  and  "  the  bond  of  perfection." 
It  is  assumed  by  our  Blessed  Lord  Himself  to  be  the  characteristic 


398 

mark  of  His  disciples,  and  in  that  magnificent  eulogium  which  St. 
Paul  pronounces  on  this  virtue  in  the  Epistle  to  the  Corinthians,  he 
expressly  declares  that  it  is  greater  than  faith  or  hope.  "  Now  remain 
these  three — faith,  hope,  and  charity  ;  but  the  greatest  of  these  is 
charity." 

If,  however,  charity  be  greater  than  faith,  it  is  closely  connected 
with,  and  founded  upon,  that  fundamental  virtue.  The  religion  of 
Christ  is  the  true  spring  of  benevolence,  and  he  that  crowns  his  life 
with  Christian  charity,  acts  from  faith,  and  upon  the  high  principle 
of  regard  to  the  God  who  hath  made  him,  to  the  Saviour  who  re- 
deemed him,  and  who  not  only  enjoined  love,  but  has  enforced  it  by 
the  example  of  laying  down  His  life  through  love  of  mankind.  He 
acts  with  the  spirit  of  a  follower  of  the  Son  of  God,  and,  regardless 
of  men,  or  of  human  recompense,  he  is  carried  along  by  the  lofty 
impulse  of  doing  for  his  fellow-creatures  what  he  would  wish  to  do 
to  that  divine  Person  who  hath  said,  "  Inasmuch  as  ye  have  done  it 
unto  one  of  the  least  of  these  my  brethren,  ye  have  done  it  unto 
me."  With  him,  charity  is  not  merely  a  moral  virtue,  but  a 
Christian  grace,  and  it  acquires  worth  and  dignity  by  extending  its 
branches  into  heaven  like  a  great  and  lofty  tree  of  Paradise,  while 
shedding  its  influence  upon  the  eai*th.  This  charity  is  but  part  of 
the  amiable  and  compassionate  spirit  of  the  great  Author  of  Christi- 
anity ;  of  that  spirit  which  shone  in  all  His  actions,  which  breathed 
in  all  His  discourses,  and  which  was  expressed  with  striking  energy, 
when,  with  such  gracious  benignity  and  tenderness.  He  declared  the 
merciful  intention  of  His  mission  to  all  the  countless  tribes  of  afflic- 
tion. "  Come  to  Me,  all  ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I 
will  refresh  you." 

Our  eternal  Father  loves  mankind,  and  desires  that  we  should  do 
so  likewise.  To  man  it  is  not  given  to  be  good,  otherwise  than  by 
imitating  his  Creator  in  this  generous  love  in  procuring  the  felicity 
of  his  fellow-creatures  by  such  service  as  is  within  his  power.  In 
this  love  is  comprised  all  human  merit,  and  it  forms  an  essential 
part  of  the  love  we  owe  to  God,  as  we  see  from  several  subHme  pas- 
sages of  the  Sacred  Writings. 

"  Then  shall  the  King  say  to  them  that  shaU  be  on  His  right  hand  : 
*  Come,  ye  blessed  of  My  Father,  possess  the  kingdom  prepared  for 
you  from  the  foundation  of  the  world.      For  I  was  hungry,  and  you 


399 

gave  me  to  eat ;  I  was  thirsty,  and  you  gave  me  to  drink  ;  I  was  a 
stranger,  and  you  took  me  in  ;  naked,  and  you  clothed  me  ;  sick, 
and  you  visited  me  ;  I  was  in  prison,  and  you  came  to  me.'  Then 
shall  the  just  answer  Him,  saying  :  '  Lord,  when  did  we  see  Thee 
hungry  and  fed  Thee  ?  thirsty,  and  gave  Thee  drink  ?  And  when 
did  we  see  Thee  a  stranger  and  took  Thee  in ;  or  naked,  and 
clothed  Thee  ;  or  when  did  we  see  Thee  sick  and  in  prison,  and  came 
to  Thee  ? '  And  the  King  answering,  shall  say  to  them  :  '  Amen,  I 
say  to  you,  as  long  as  you  did  it  to  one  of  these  the  least  of  My 
brethren,  you  did  it  unto  Me '  "  (Matt.  xxv.  34-45). 

Our  love  rises  in  proportion  to  our  esteem  for  humanity.  Let  me, 
therefore,  present  to  view  an  elevated  type  of  manhood  on  which  to 
model  your  own — a  man  of  surpassing  excellence  worthy  of  your  es- 
teem and  veneration.  He  is  the  Model  Man,  strong  and  merciful  in 
a  supreme  degree;  His  marvellous  patience  in  suffering  sweetens  our 
own  cup  of  woe;  His  doctrines  are  simple  utterances  about  a  Father- 
hood which  embosoms  all  the  children  of  men,  and  a  brotherhood 
which  makes  all  the  races  of  the  world  one  great  family;  the  sinful, 
the  sorrow-stricken,  the  ignorant,  the  unwise,  the  pubUcans  and  har- 
lots, the  very  dregs  and  refuse  of  humanity.  He  draws  around  Him ; 
the  fountains  of  righteousness  He  drinks  as  they  flow  from  heaven ; 
His  love  invites  all  to  rest  and  reward ;  His  presence  is  the  presence 
of  all  that  is  good;  His  memory  is  a  benediction  to  all;  babes  and 
children  He  calls  to  Him,  but  the  wise  and  self-righteous  He  puts 
away;  His  meekness  and  patience  in  suffering  are  like  an  everlast- 
ing rock  which  we  may  hold  by  when  tossed  in  the  tempest  of  life ; 
His  poverty  has  sanctified  the  home  of  the  poor;  His  love  of  healing 
fills  the  earth  with  innumerable  works  of  benevolence  and  sym- 
pathy, and  fills  with  wonderful  hope  the  bedside  of  the  sick  and  dy- 
ing; the  perfume  of  His  faith  and  devotion  has  spread  through  the 
world,  and  He  is  enshrined  in  the  core  of  our  philosophy,  in  the 
heart  of  our  exuberant  love;  He  is  the  irreconcilable  enemy  of  op- 
pression, injustice,  and  hypocrisy;  He  is  the  philanthropist  who 
pardons  all  save  the  impenitent;  He  makes  Himself  the  brother  of 
the  poor,  and  condemns  not  the  prosperous,  if  they  remember  they 
are  the  brethren  of  the  indigent;  He  esteems  not  men  according  to 
their  wisdom  or  their  wealth,  but  according  to  the  motives  of  their 
hearts.     His  long  uncut  hair,  in  which  the  mountain  zephyr  plays; 


400 

His  trailing  garments  of  seamless  white,  whose  touch  the  diseased 
and  sinful  longed  for;  His  beautiful  feet,  washed  with  precious  oint- 
ment and  wiped  with  woman's  hair;  His  self -immersed  air,  absent 
eyes,  and  brightened  forehead,  which  show  that  His  spirit  is  far,  far 
away,  point  Him  out  as  the  philosopher  and  philanthropist  without 
a  blemish,  as  the  full  manifestation  of  God  in  a  being  of  our  species, 
as  the  sweet  Jesus— the  Man-God  of  Nazareth  who  still  lives  in  our 
hearts.     Who  can  look  on  this  Man  and  not  be  a  lover  of  His  kind  ? 

But  he  who  forms  of  his  fellow-men  a  mean,  ignoble,  and  dis- 
torted type— a  mere  caricature  of  humanity;  he  who  is  pleased  to 
regard  the  human  race  as  composed  of  cunning,  crafty,  selfish  ani- 
mals, who  have  no  aim  in  life  but  to  eat  and  drink  and  thrive,  at 
whatever  cost  to  others;  he  who,  with  cloud-covered  mind  and 
cynical  heart  can  see  nothing  good  and  grand  in  art,  science,  civil- 
ization, in  the  pursuit  of  justice,  in  the  unquenchable  quest  for  the 
good,  the  true,  the  beautiful,  the  divine,  ah !  what  motive  can  he 
have  for  loving  and  respecting  his  fellow-man,  to  say  nothing  of  self- 
sacrifice  in  the  interest  of  humanity  ? 

But  these  are  only  individuals,  for,  thank  God,  there  is  some  com- 
passion, wherever  there  are  human  hearts.  But  organized  and 
effective  charity  is  a  Christian  institution.  The  policy  of  Kome 
pushed  the  weaker  to  the  wall,  and  stern  and  pitiless  was  the  great 
god  Jupiter.  There  was  an  altar  to  Pity  in  Athens,  but  it  was  an  altar 
where  the  sorrow-stricken  might  weep  in  helplessness  and  despair. 

The  power  and  force  of  the  Gospel  is  not  developed  by  mere  an- 
nouncement, but  must  realize  itself  in  those  institutions  which 
spring  from  the  fecund  bosom  of  the  Catholic  Church.  In  vain  has 
science  disputed  the  unity  of  our  origin,  but  with  even  greater  fu- 
tility has  it  challenged  the  common  character  of  our  destiny.  The 
brotherhood  of  man  is  a  part  of  the  Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ,  who  was 
primogenitus  inter  fratres — the  first-bom  among  brothers.  And  the 
Catholic  Church  says  all  men  are  brothers;  says  it  so  loud  that  the 
Australian  Bushman,  and  the  South  Sea  Islander,  and  the  African 
negro,  and  the  American  Indian,  shake  off  their  shackles  and  cry  out 
as  they  rise  from  the  dust,  "We,  too,  are  men."  Behold  the  fruit  of 
the  charity  of  the  Church  of  Christ.  Some  call  it  philanthropy; 
some  call  it  philosophy: — I  call  it  a  bit  of  the  wreck  of  Eden  floating 
in  the  stormy  waters  of  the  world,  and  the  name  is  charity. 


401 

This  charity  is  divine,  this  charity  is  heaven-bom. 
'Twas  a  beautiful  summer  evening  in  the  garden  of  Paradise,  and 
the  stars  lit  up  the  heavens  with  a  calm  and  glowing  splendor,  and 
the  bright,  majestic  moon  cast  her  rays  of  matchless  beauty  over  the 
tree  and  flower,  while  in  placid  loveliness  each  plant  was  slumber- 
ing. The  birds  which  all  the  livelong  day  had  carolled  some  chosen 
lay,  had  gone  to  balmy  rest,  and  no  sound  broke  the  stillness  or 
solemnity  of  the  scene;  all  was  tranquil  as  when  the  morning  stars 
sang  together  over  the  newly-made  creation,  and  the  sons  of  God 
made  joyful  melody.  "  Silence  was  pleased.  Now  glowed  the  firma- 
ment 

"  With  living  sapphires:  Hesperus  that  led 
The  starry  host,  rode  brightest  till  the  moon, 
Riding  in  cloudless  majesty,  at  length 
Apparent  queen,  unveiled  her  fearless  light, 
And  o'er  the  dark  her  silver  mantle  threw." 

In  a  bower  of  surpassing  elegance,  on  a  couch  of  blooming  roses,  of 
richest  fragrance,  near  a  calm,  pellucid  lake,  lay  a  new-born  babe  of 
bewitching  beauty  and  heavenly  loveliness.  The  sweet  infant 
opened  its  mild,  blue  eyes  and  closed  them  in  an  innocent  smile  and 
in  quiet  slumber.  Soon  the  babe  awoke,  and  the  weak  and  piteous 
cry  came  forth  from  its  tender  heart.  But  Mercy  heard  its  cries  for 
help,  and  lovingly  kissed  away  its  tears,  and  pressed  it  fondly  to  her 
heart,  and  nourished  it  as  the  mother  nourisheth  her  first-bom.  And 
the  Angel  of  the  Lord  approached  the  footstool  of  Mercy.  She 
kissed  the  beauteous  babe  and  called  it  Charity,  and  blessed  it,  say- 
ing: "It  is  well  for  suffering  humanity  that  this  child  is  bom  into 
the  world,  for  manifold  are  the  miseries  the  messenger  of  heaven 
shall  be  called  upon  to  relieve." 

Let  us  lift  the  veil  to-night  from  one  of  the  old  familiar  scenes 
that  daily  meet  our  gaze  in  the  crowded  cities  of  the  land,  even  at 
our  very  doors. 

It  is  a  bitter  cold  night  in  drear  December.  Other  nights  have 
been  as  dark  and  cold  ;  and  ever  hence,  as  long  as  the  earth  lasts, 
they  will  intersperse  the  record  of  time  with  pictures  of  gloom 
and  misery,  such  as  He  alone  can  see  whose  eye  measures  forward 
and  backward  the  circling  eternities.  But  it  is  a  desolate  night  for 
those  who  have  no  shelter  but  the  air ;  for  those  in  whose  grim 
26 


402 

abodes,  in  a  thousand  lanes  and  alleys  of  the  great  city,  joy  and 
comfort  never  enter.  A  ten-ible  night  it  is  for  the  children  of  want, 
whose  forced  mission  of  beggary,  suggested  by  misfortune  and  per- 
secution more  than  idleness  or  crime,  brings  them  only  the  mouldy 
crusts  of  charity,  the  rebuffs  of  humanity,  the  jeers  of  the  witling, 
the  insults  of  beings  who  fancied  themselves  human,  only  because 
they  walked  upright  and  were  garbed  in  human  habiliments. 

In  the  great  cities  of  New  York  and  Brooklyn,  girt  round  by  sea  and 
river  ;  mighty  marts  of  trade  and  commerce,  through  which  the  in- 
dustry of  the  nation  comes  like  life-blood  through  the  heart ; — in 
these  cities,  richer  than  Tyre  and  Sidon,  and  fast  striving  to  become 
as  iniquitous  ; — in  these  cities,  so  Christian,  if  one  might  judge  of 
the  numberless  church-spires  ;  so  philanthropic,  if  one  might  count 
their  hospitals  and  asylums,  and  almshouses  >where  smoking  soup  is 
dis]3ensed  to  the  vagrant  throng,  but  where  also,  too  often,  the 
worthy  are  cast  among  the  abandoned  and  criminal,  because  they 
are  sick  and  faint  with  the  burden  and  wear  of  poverty,  and  can  no 
longer  on  this  fair  God's  earth,  so  beautiful  and  abundant,  earn  by 
toil,  or  win  by  craft,  shelter  against  the  pitiless  elements,  or  bread  to 
appease  their  hunger  ;  yes,  here  where  poverty  is  lamented  as  a 
crime,  and  suffering,  which  might  compete  with  martyrdom,  wins 
the  badge  of  vagrancy,  and  is  sentenced  by  grave  judges, 
whose  faces  blossom  like  a  summer  vintage,  to  hells  called  peniten- 
tiaries, there  to  herd  with  the  outcasts  of  brothels  ;  yes,  here  I  say 
where  the  heart  is  not  callous  and  jaded  by  contact  with  falsehood, 
injustice,  and  wrong,  may  fill  its  cup  with  grief,  pity,  and  indignation, 
how  many  are  the  children  of  want,  of  pain,  of  sickness,  sorrow,  and 
misery,  whose  crushed  souls  strive  to  bear  up  their  burden  virtuously, 
but  find  no  word  of  comfort  or  cheer  from  the  hard  world  around 
them,  and  are  driven  at  last,  by  madness  or  despair,  to  embrace  vice, 
crime,  or  death. 

Pause,  for  a  moment,  pause  ye,  about  whose  hearth  the  fire  blazes 
cheerily  to-night,  whose  larder  and  cupboard  groan  with  delicacies, 
whose  homes  are  filled  with  peace  and  plenty,  pause  and  look  in 
upon  the  abodes  of  wretches,  who  are  wretches  only,  in  all  their 
filth  and  abandonment,  because  pitiless  circumstances,  neither  fore- 
seen nor  controllable,  have  made  them  so,  and  from  which  they 
found  in  their  distress,  no  brotherhood  to  release  them.    Let  us  look. 


403 

And  God  help  us,  what  a  sight  is  this !  Come,  man  or  woman  ; 
come,  child  of  plenty  and  affluence  ;  come  from  your  comfortable 
homes  ;  come,  thou  sleek  and  sanctimonious  Christian,  professing  to 
be  full  of  the  love  of  Christ,  come  for  the  sake  of  Christ  who  walked 
and  dwelt  among  the  poor,  who  had  no  stately  palace,  neither  He 
nor  His  disciples  in  days  when  disciples  were  not  afraid  of  death  for 
men's  sake  in  the  love  of  Christ ;  come  for  the  sake  of  Christ  who 
lived  and  died  for  the  poor,  look  in  upon  the  home  of  misery,  see 
how  the  >vidow  and  her  fatherless  children  live,  or  drag  out  an  ex- 
istence in  the  midst  of  the  beautiful,  rich,  and  proud  city. 

Peer  into  that  dismal  room  where  the  fitful  firelight  casts  its 
ghostly  shadows  athwart  the  gloom.  The  flame  sputtering  from  the 
solitary  stick  seems  endowed  with  a  human  consciousness  and  burns 
so  feebly  that  the  poor  widow  may  have  Hght  a  little  longer  to  com- 
plete her  task.  It  is  midnight:  still  there  is  the  form,  wasted  and 
worn  like  a  skeleton,  bending  over  the  flickering  fire,  and  her  hands 
move  as  with  painful  labor.  Heaven  grant  us  hard  hearts  that  we 
may  see  all  before  we  startle  her  with  a  gush  of  pity.  She  is  putting 
the  last  stitches  to  a  garment,  for  the  making  of  which,  she  will  on 
the  mon-ow  claim  the  miserable  dole  of  six  pence.  Reflect  on  it,  ye 
who,  dissatisfied  with  competence,  are  rushing  foi-th  to  dig  more 
plentiful  gold  from  the  distant  sands.  Think  of  it,  proud  million- 
aire, in  the  midst  of  thy  feverish  thirst  for  gold, — gold  to  which 
thou  wilt  cling  in  agony  on  the  bed  of  death,  when  its  yellow  light 
will  stream  balef  ully  on  thy  glassy  eye,  and  the  dark  waters  roll 
upon  thee,  and  freeze  thee  stiff  and  stark.  Think  of  the  widow 
bending  over  that  waning  fire,  that  when  to-morrow  comes  she  may 
get  bread  for  flesh  of  her  flesh,  bone  of  her  bone. 

Look  around  that  room !  Where  is  the  carpet  to  stay  the  chill 
from  breaking  through  the  creviced  floor  ?  Ah  !  there  is  none ;  and 
through  the  doors  and  windows  the  death-damp  oozes  in,  and  the 
cold  night-rain  and  wind  whistles  fiercely  against  the  broken  pane, 
and  pierces  that  fragile,  toil-spent,  shivering  form.  And  the  bed 
where  the  little  ones  sleep — by  the  side  of  which,  ere  they  were 
kissed  by  a  fond  yet  desolate  mother  for  the  last  time  ere  they  slept, 
they  knelt  down  and  raised  their  innocent  hands  to  God,  and  uttered 
the  sweet  prayer  which  her  own  lips  had  taught, — and  which,  God 
grant,  they  never  may  forget,— this  bed,  what  is  it  but  a  couch  of 


404 

straw  in  a  cold  and  cheerless  room,  with  thin  and  battered  coverlets 
to  shield  those  shrinking  little  forms  from  the  inclemency  of  the 
bleak  and  stormy  night.  Lulled  to  sleep  by  want  and  pain,  they 
sleep  the  sleep  of  innocence.  Ay,  perchance  they  dream, — dream  of 
days  when  they  had  plenty  ;  when  they  played  merrily  with  other 
children,  who  now  shun  them  and  taunt  them  because  they  are 
poor.  Yes  ;  they  dream  that  they  are  wandering  pleasantly  through 
the  green  fields,  feeding  themselves  with  berries,  as  do  the  birds  of 
heaven  ;  and  on  the  wayside  they  meet  an  angel  who  gives  them 
bread  and  meat,  and  blesses  their  childish  glee  and  innocent  mirth. 
Yes  ;  they  dream  of  meat  because  they  went  hungry  to  bed,  and 
true  to  instinct,  nature  pictures  in  their  dormant  vision  those  com- 
forts which  still  the  cravings  of  the  body,  and  without  which  the 
Boul  faints  and  trembles  and  fails.     And 

"  With  fingers  weary  and  worn, 
With  eyelids  heavy  and  red," 

the  lone  widow  sits  hard  by  their  couch,  plying  her  needle  and 
mingling  in  her  brain  thoughts  of  the  sleeping  children,  and  mem 
cries  of  the  dead.  Painful  thoughts,  holy  memories.  Does  not  her 
vision,  even  amid  this  woe,  pierce  backward  through  the  past  ; 
through  years  when  she  was  happy  in  the  life  and  love  of  kind 
parents  ;  when  competence  h^d  not  been  swept  away  by  sickness, 
misfortune,  and  death  ;  when  her  children,  now  pale  and  drooping, 
were  as  summer  flowers,  laughing  in  the  gladdening  sunshine,, when 
her  life  was  all  joy  and  beatitude,  the  day  full  of  sweet  realities,  and 
the  night  of  sweeter  dreams.  Nay  ;  does  not  her  vision  go  back  to 
the  days  of  girlhood,  when  life  seemed  all  one  sun-bright  holiday, 
when  the  sky  of  the  future  was  to  her  imagination  but  the  golden 
glow  of  ecstatic  promises;  when  she  mirrored  in  anticipation  the 
delights  of  womanhood  and  motherhood; — delights,  as  those  of 
paradise,  to  the  young  and  trusting  heart,  as  was  Eden  to  the  sinless 
Eve, — nor  ever  dreamed  a  shadow  or  a  cloud  could  obscure  their 
radiance,  or  cast  heavy  drops  of  bitterness  in  her  joy-brimming  cup. 
Ah  !  yes;  and  now  still  more  bitter  than  all,  her  tear-dimmed  eye 
brings  her  back  to  the  day  she  left  a  father's  house,  where  every  secret 
wish  was  gratified,  where  she  knew  the  sweets  of  plenty  and  basked 
in  the  sunshine  of  a  mother's  love;  to  a  day  far  back  in  early  life,  when 


405 

before  an  incensed  and  garlanded  altar,  amid  the  odor  of  orange- 
blossoms,  and  in  the  glare  of  glittering  lights,  when  all  was  bright 
and  joyful,  she  in  an  unguarded  moment  placed  her  hopes  of 
earthly  felicity  on  the  broken  promises  of  a  perjured  husband,  and 
reaped  a  bitter  recompense  for  unchanging  love,  when  she  put  her 
fair  white  hand  in  the  hand  of  one  who  lifted  to  his  lips  the  bane 
of  hell — and  fell.  Know  ye  not  the  gloomy  habitation  of  the  drunk- 
ard— the  abode  wherein  intemperance  has  raised  his  mournful  ban- 
ner ?  Are  not  those  children  ragged,  hungered,  unhappy,  and 
illiterate,  because  their  father  fell?  Ah!  if  these  words  should 
reach  the  ear  of  the  swollen-eyed,  intemperate  husband  and  unfeel- 
ing father,  God  gi-ant  that,  for  his  own  sake,  and  that  of  his  heart- 
broken wife  and  famished  children,  he  may,  through  the  influence 
of  remorse,  become  a  reformed  man,  new-made,  by  reflecting  on  the 
desolation  of  the  past,  and  contemplating  the  eventful  future. 

And  now  the  last  stitch  is  taken,  she  lays  by  her  work,  and,  softly 
approaching  the  nest  where  nestle  the  flowers  of  her  heart,  she 
bends  and  imprints  a  soft  kiss  on  each  brow,  and  the  invisible,  all- 
seeing  Eye  above,  beholds  a  tear  sparkhng  as  it  falls  on  each  little 
cheek,  and  hears  the  deep,  inaudible  prayer,  "  Our  Father  who  art  in 
heaven,"  rising  like  an  incense  from  the  widow's  heart.  And  though 
they,  widow  and  children,  bear  all  the  garments  they  have  on  their 
backs;  though  they  sleep  on  bare  and  prickly  straw,  and  have  no 
meal  for  the  morrow  in  their  cupboard;  though  the  children  sleep 
and  dream  the  dreams  of  the  famishing;  though  all  is  still  as  lips 
touched  by  death,  saving  the  whistling  wind,  the  beating  of  the 
sleet,  and  the  quick  throbbing  of  the  widow's  full  heart;  still  she 
does  not  despair,  for  she  knows  that  she  is  overshadowed  by  the 
warm  wings  of  the  angels,  and  the  love  of  God  lies  balmy,  like  the 
fragrance  of  a  summer  morning,  around  her  heart,  and  in  gentle  ac- 
quiescence to  her  Maker's  will,  she  says: 

*'  What'll  it  matter  by  and  by, 

Whether  my  path  in  life  was  bright, 
Whether  it  wound  through  dark  or  light. 
Under  a  grey  or  a  golden  sky, 
When  I  look  back  out  it  * 
By  and  by." 

Christianity  has  done  a  blessed  and  beautiful  work  in  subduing 
the  heart,  and  teaching  it  to  bear  up  and  not  break  under  suffering; 


406 

to  face  misfortune,  poverty,  oppression,  and  death  even  without 
shrinking  from  the  task.  The  loftiest  virtue  and  heroism  displayed 
on  this  earth  is  the  heroism  of  the  poor,  who  live  through  lives  of 
suffering  and  sorrow,  and  for  all  their  martyrdom  ask  no  crown  but 
the  approving  peace  of  God.  But  the  type  of  sufferer  of  whom 
I  have  spoken  is  a  Christian,  and  she  has  no  thought  of  relief  in 
death,  nor  in  escaping  from  the  toil  that  makes  her  pale  and  pinched 
and  wan.  She  is  a  Christian,  and  she  lives  on  and  hopes  on  for  the 
sake  of  the  children,  who  lie  sleeping  there  on  their  pallet  of  straw, 
and  who,  did  she  forsake  them,  would  be  inmates  of  some  cell,  the 
inheritors  of  the  pauper's  brand,  or  still  worse,  driven  among  the 
victims  of  vice  and  crime  to  learn  the  arts  of  brutes  and  fiends. 
She  is  a  Christian,  that  meek  and  uncomplaining  widow,  and  she  re- 
members the  saying  of  Him  who  is  life  and  strength  to  all  who  trust 
in  Him :  "  Blessed  are  the  poor  in  spirit,  for  theirs  is  the  kingdom  of 
heaven." 

Now,  this  is  no  fancy  sketch  drawn  from  a  glowing  and  sym- 
pathetic imagination,  but  it  is  a  stern  reality,  and  it  is  to  relieve  just 
such  misery  that  the  sons  of  St.  Vincent  de  Paul,  who  pursue  their 
labors  so  silently  among  you  here,  are  ready  to  leave  the  comforts  of 
their  fireside,  to  brave  the  inclement  blasts  of  winter,  to  seek  out  the 
cabins  and  the  garrets  of  the  poor  and  pour  the  balm  of  consolation 
into  their  woe-burdened  souls. 

While  the  grates  in  the  palaces  of  Fifth  Avenue  blaze  and  crackle 
with  the  ruddy  coals,  and  music  awakens  the  gay  dance  and  song, 
and  luxury  sates  itself  with  every  delicacy,  there  is  unutterable  woe 
in  yonder  garret  and  cellar;  the  woe  of  hunger,  pain,  and  breaking 
hearts,  which  will  breed,  along  with  virtue  and  heroism,  much  de- 
spair, crime,  and  madness.  What  wonder  that  murder  and  suicides 
occur  ?  What  wonder  if  the  age  puts  on  the  garb  of  vice  and  aban- 
dons itself  to  the  Evil  One  ?  Will  not  the  starving  wretch  clutch  his 
neighbor's  loaf  ?  In  the  delirium  of  want  will  he  not  cry — even  as 
the  famished  everywhere,  cry  out:  "Bread  or  Blood."  Oh!  think 
not,  regenerator  of  society,  that  there  can  be  harmony  or  peace  in 
the  spirit,  while  the  body  is  tortured  by  keen  pain.  Kemember  that 
Christ  taught  first  to  clothe  and  feed  the  poor.  How  can  they  feel 
that  the  earth  is  bountiful,  and  that  God's  love  is  over  all,  who  are 
shut  out  from  earth's  bounties,  and  denied  that  human  sympathy 


407 

and  love  which  seems  the  truest  expression  on  earth  of  the  love  of 
God? 

I  plead  not  for  the  idle,  who  may  have  work  and  can  work,  if  they 
will,  to  earn  bread;  I  plead  not  for  masked  beggars,  who  shamefully 
follow  a  vocation  to  which  they  are  not  driven  by  want;  but  I  do 
plead  for  hundreds  who  are  beggars  in  all  but  the  act  of  beggary,  to 
which  sensitive  souls  do  not,  thank  God,  easily  bend.  They  are  the 
most  terribly  suffering  and  pitiable  of  the  poor.  They  have,  some 
of  them,  seen  better  days,  and  been  reduced  from  affluence  to  poverty 
by  misfortune;  many,  by  that  fatality  which  seems  to  pursue  those 
who  strive  the  hardest  to  see  how  mu^  they  can  bear;  many,  by  sick- 
ness; some,  by  sin,  but  comparatively  few  by  acts  which  God  would 
severely  condemn. 

Health  and  employment  must  be  society's  salvation  for  the 
poor;  they  are  better  than  provisional  alms.  Give  them  these,  and 
the  prisons  and  penitentiaries  will  be  almost  tenantless,  and  crime 
and  wretchedness  will  be  in  great  part  swept  away.  Oh !  that  an 
Astor,  a  Stewart,  or  a  Vanderbilt,  whose  hoarded  millions  spent  in 
workhouses  and  baths  and  libraries  for  the  poor  would  have  reared 
them  a  monument  grander  than  the  triumphal  arch  of  the  pyramids, 
had  closed  theii*  accounts  with  God  by  decreeing  their  millions  to  the 
alleviation  of  their  brothers,  God's  children  on  earth. 
•  Poverty  is  the  parent  of  crime.  Do  not  doubt  it,  philanthropist 
and  legislator.  "  The  destruction  of  the  poor  is  their  poverty,"  says 
the  Wise  Man.  It  is  the  source  whence  spring  nine-tenths  of  the 
physical  and  moral  maladies  that  afflict  mankind  and  curse  our 
earth.  Search  the  records  of  jails  and  prisons;  trace  the  history  of 
those  who  have  been  banned  and  branded,  and  see  how,  step  by 
step,  they  were  driven  to  the  verge  of  the  abyss — Poverty  !  It  has 
made  thieves,  robbers,  prostitutes,  and  murderers.  It  has  made 
anarchists  and  atheists  and  distui'bers  of  social  order.  It  has  con- 
vulsed nations  and  cast  down  thrones.  Grim  and  terrible  it  has 
glared  upon  society,  spreading  blight  everywhere  in  its  path. 

I  repeat,  poverty  is  the  cause  of  crime;  though,  I  freely  allow, 
crime  often  causes  poverty.  But  it  is  the  office  of  benevolence  to 
discover  what  can  best  promote  the  improvement  of  all  classes  of 
the  community.  Much  is  said  of  the  unworthiness  and  ill-desert  of 
the  poor.     Those  who  are   too   scrupulous  to   do  good  without  a 


408 

charter  of  recommendation,  may  still  find  abundant  exercise  for 
their  charities  in  the  children  of  want  and  infirmity,  of  whom  it  can- 
not be  said  that  vice  and  idleness  brought  them  low.  The  deserv- 
ing are  least  rarely  objects  of  charity. 

Still,  we  believe  th^re  is  much  to  do,  in  the  hope  of  reformation, 
among  those  whose  poverty  is  the  reward  of  their  vices.  The  truth 
still  remains,  they  are  our  suffering  fellow-beings.  In  the  instruc- 
tions of  our  Saviour,  we  are  not  told,  if  thy  brother  hunger  and  is 
worthy,  feed  him;  if  he  thirst,  and  is  deserving,  give  to  him  drink. 
We  find  no  rule  of  duty  measured  wholly  by  the  worth  of  the  ob- 
ject; but  many  founded  on  dur  knowledge,  our  abilities,  and  our 
common  brotherhood  in  Christ  our  Lord,  who  spent  His  life  in 
ministering  to  the  poor,  and  of  whose  mission  of  "  peace  on  earth," 
it  was  heralded  as  one  of  the  unequivocal  signs  that  the  poor  should 
have  the  Gospel  preached  to  them. 


V. 

HAIL,  COLUMBUS,  HAPPY  MAN  !  * 

*  *  Thy  fame  rings  down  the  corridor  of  centuries,  and  grows  brighter  with 

the  flight  of  time." 

America  honored  itself  in  glorifying  the  memory'  of  Christopher 
Columbus ! 

From  the  sacred  walls  of  La  Eabida  to  the  eastern  confines  of  the 
Pacific,  from  Manitoba  to  Cape  Horn,  the  millions  enjoying  the  fruit- 
age of  the  discovery,  paid  loving  tribute  to  the  patience,  persever- 
ance, unwavering  faith,  and  mai'vellous  genius  of  the  Genoese  navi- 
gator. 

The  passage  of  four  hundred  years  has  but  increased  the  fame  of 
Columbus.  His  discovery  of  the  New  World  is  justly  reckoned  an 
epoch  in  the  world's  history  second  only  to  the  birth  of  Christianity. 
It  marks  the  inception  of  modem  history.  With  it  was  born  a  new 
and  grander  civilization.  From  it  sprung  the  greatest  repubHc  on 
earth,  the  Mecca  of  the  oppressed  of  all  lands. 

When  one  reflects  on  the  vicissitudes  in  the  career  of  Columbus, 
the  marvellous  faith  and  religious  fervor  of  the  man  shine  resplen- 
dent. Scoffed  at  and  rejected  by  his  native  city,  its  people  now  de- 
Ught  to  honor  him.  In  Portugal,  place  and  person  derided  his 
schemes,  yet  he  lived  to  witness  the  court's  regret.  In  all  his 
troublous  days,  the  Church  and  its  ministers  were  his  comforters  and 
supporters.  Whether  battHng  against  mutinous  crews,  overcoming 
envy  and  treachery,  struggling  amid  Atlantic  storms,  or  when  igno- 
miniously  bound  in  chains,  his  trust  in  God  was  as  strong  and  fer- 
vent as  when  he  raised  the  standard  of  the  cross  on  the  tropic  shores 
of  Guanahani,  or  when  exhibiting  trophies  of  the  discovery  in  the 
court  at  Barcelona. 

*  From  the  Omaha  Recorder. 


410 

It  was  eminently  fitting  that  the  Catholics  of  Omaha  should  honor 
the  memory  of  Columbus.  They  did  not  seek  to  make  the  celebra- 
tion exclusive,  or  draw  the  line  on  creeds.  On  the  contrary,  weeks 
before,  the  chairman  of  the  managing  committee  notified  Mayor 
Bemis  of  their  purpose,  expressing  a  willingness  to  take  any  part 
that  might  be  assigned  in  a  public  demonstration.  His  Honor 
probably  did  not  think  the  occasion  worthy  of  an  effort.  It  was  not 
even  brought  ofl&cially  to  the  attention  of  the  city  council.  After  a 
careful  survey  of  the  city,  the  mayor  failed  to  discover  any  signs  of 
preparation,  and  so  informed  the  committee.  Therefore,  the  duty 
of  sustaining  the  patriotism  of  Omaha  by  publicly  honoring  the 
memory  of  Columbus,  fell  to  the  Catholics.  That  they  performed 
the  duty  well  does  not  admit  of  doubt.  The  Columbian  festal 
season  was  ushered  in  very  properly  with  masses  in  all  the  churches 
on  the  12th,  followed  in  the  afternoon  with  a  parade  of  the  school 
children  and  delightful  patriotic  exercises  in  Exposition  Hall.  On 
the  21st,  the  various  church  societies  and  most  of  the  school  children 
united  in  a  grand  parade,  with  flags  and  banners  unfurled,  keeping 
step  to  martial  music  and  enlivening  drum  corps.  The  day  was  an 
ideal  one  for  a  parade.  The  mist  and  frost  of  an  October  morning 
vanished  long  before  noon,  and  at  2  p.m.,  when  the  organizations 
began  to  assemble,  the  sun  smiled  approval  in  genial  rays. 

The  parade  on  last  Friday  was  one  of  the  finest  ever  seen  in  this 
city.  It  was  distinctively  a  Catholic  celebration,  and  was  participated 
in  by  only  the  Catholic  residents  of  the  city,  the  Catholic  societies, 
and  the  pupils  of  the  parochial  schools  and  colleges.  The  day  was 
perfect,  and  all  nature  smiled  upon  the  undertaking  in  a  manner  to 
gladden  the  hearts  of  the  participants. 

Promptly  at  2  o'clock  the  grand  marshal  of  the  day,  William  M. 
Bushman,  assisted  by  Dr.  W.  J.  McCrann,  Patrick  Ford,  P.  M. 
Mullen,  Wm.  Maher,  John  Dougherty,  and  P.  A.  O'Keefe,  as  aides, 
started  the  column  from  Ninth  and  Harney  Streets,  and  the  parade, 
fully  6,000  strong,  moved  away  without  hitch  or  hindrance.  The 
line  of  march  was  past  St.  Philomena's  cathedral,  from  the  steps  of 
which  the  parade  was  reviewed  by  Et  Kev.  Bishop  Scannell,  Father 
Tighe,  of  New  Jersey,  Vicar-General  Choka,  and  Rev.  Colaneri,  of 
Omaha.  There  was  music — music  by  the  bands,  and  music  by  the 
fife  and  drum  corps,  but  none  sweeter  than  the  chimes  of  St.  Phi- 


411 

lomena's  bells,  which  ring  only  on  state  occasions.  Every  detail  was 
carried  out  to  the  letter,  and  the  thousands  who  witnessed  the  pa- 
rade from  the  points  of  vantage  along  the  line  of  march,  pronounced 
it  the  finest  that  was  ever  seen  in  this  city. 

The  Ancient  Order  of  Hibernians,  headed  by  ^Ir.  S.  J.  Flynn,  as 
marshal,  and  Messrs.  P.  J.  Keilley  and  E.  J.  Dee,  as  aides,  headed 
the  procession,  and  presented  a  fine  appearance.  They  wore  the  re- 
galia of  the  order,  together  with  the  handsome  souvenir  badges 
made  by  the  Poor  Clare  Sisters,  and  marched  with  the  bearing  of 
soldiers,  keeping  time  to  the  strains  of  inspiring  music. 

Next  came  the  parishes,  under  the  leadership  of  Mr.  Thomas 
Swift.  They  composed  a  large  part  of  the  parade,  but  some  of  the 
parishes  did  not  turn  out  the  full  number. 

The  pupils  of  the  Catholic  schools,  who  immediately  followed, 
were  under  the  marshalship  of  Hon.  Thos.  JjOwtj.  They  made  an 
especially  fine  appearance,  as  every  little  tot  was  resplendent  in  red, 
white,  and  blue.  The  boys  who  were  large  enough  went  on  foot, 
while  the  smaller  ones  and  the  girls  rode  in  wagons,  carry-alls,  and 
tally-ho  coaches. 

Following  came  the  C.  M.  B.  A.,  the  Y.  M.  I.,  and  the  German, 
Bohemian,  Polish,  and  Italian  societies,  who  were  represented  in 
large  numbers.  Five  divisions  of  Creighton  University  students 
followed,  and  attracted  a  large  amount  of  public  attention,  as  they 
marched  with  the  bearing  of  so  many  soldiers,  keeping  time  to  the 
strains  of  martial  music. 

AT    EXPOSITION    HALL.* 

The  lecture  by  Bev.  Father  Tighe  in  the  evening  was  a  fitting 
close  to  the  ceremonies.  Long  before  the  leader  of  the  united  choirs 
lifted  his  baton  for  the  first  notes  of  "America,"  every  seat  in  Expo- 
sition Hall  was  occupied  and  standing  room  in  demand.  Close  to 
4,000  people  were  crowded  into  the  building,  and  a  more  joyous, 
enthusiastic  throng  never  roused  the  echoes  there  with  hearty  cheers. 
The  fact  that  the  duty  of  celebrating  Columbus  Day  in  Omaha  was 
left  to  Catholics,  formed  a  text  for  Father  Tighe's  address.  He  ex- 
pressed amazement  that  Catholics  should  be  alone  in  honoring  the 
discoverer   of  America.     He   had   travelled   from   New   Jersey  to 

*  Friday,  October  13. 


412 

Omaha,  a  distance  of  fifteen  hundred  miles,  and  in  all  that  vast  ter- 
ritory Omaha  was  the  only  city  in  which  the  people,  regardless  of 
religious  differences,  did  not  unite  in  doing  honor  to  the  memory  of 
Columbus. 

From  the  first  sentence  to  the  close  of  the  address,  Father  Tighe 
was  in  happy  accord  with  his  audience,  and  almost  every  sentence 
was  vigorously  applauded. 

THE  CHOSEN  AGENT  OF  GOD. COLUMBUS  THE  CHRIST-BEARER  TO  THE  WEST.* 

St.  Philomena's  cathedral  was  thronged  from  chancel  to  vestibule 
with  people,  many  of  whom  were  non-Catholics,  who  were  present  to 
listen  to  Father  Tighe,  of  New  Jersey.  The  pulpit  was  handsomely 
draped  with  the  American  flag.  We  are  pleased  to  give  our  readers. 
a  verbatim  report  of  the  masterful  lecture  on  Columbus  delivered  on 
the  occasion  by  the  eloquent  clergyman. 

Father  Tighe  spoke  as  follows  : 

In  the  sepulchral  chapel  of  the  great  cathedral  of  Granada,  in 
tombs  composed  of  delicate  alabaster  and  adorned  with  devices  of 
heraldic  emblazonry,  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  the  Catholic  sovereigns 
of  Spain,  clad  in  simple  regal  costume,  sleep  side  by  side,  in  the  at- 
titude of  the  long  and  happy  union  that  glorified  their  reign  and 
beautified  their  lives. 

Looking  through  the  "  dark  backward  and  abyss  of  time,"  these 
sad  relics  of  departed  majesty  connect  us  with  a  period  which,  in 
view  of  Spain's  decadence,  seems  more  like  some  abstract  dream  of 
romance  than  a  chapter  of  authentic  history.  For  then  Spain,  the 
mistress  of  the  seas,  was  near  the  zenith  of  her  power.  Then  she 
spread  her  wings  over  a  wide  sweep  of  empire  and  extended  the 
glory  of  her  name  even  to  the  antipodes  ;  then  her  flag  was  first  un- 
furled in  Italy  and  Africa,  to  the  awe  and  wonder  of  Europe  ;  then, 
in  fine,  it  was  that  a  new  world,  fertile,  boundless,  richer  than  the 
dreams  of  avarice,  was  cast  into  her  lap — discovered  just  when  the 
old  was  becoming  too  confined  for  the  awakened  intellect  and  enter- 
prise of  mankind. 

The  epoch  which  introduced  the  dual  sovereignty  of  Ferdinand 
and  Isabella  was  one  pregnant  with  gigantic  consequences  to  the 
world.     The  close  of  the  fifteenth  century  was  one  of  those  peculiar 

*  Cathedral,  Monday,  October  15. 


413 

climacterics  when  signal  revolutions  take  place  both  in  the  social  and 
political  conditions  of  mankind.  The  thrones  of  England,  France, 
and  Spain  were  filled  by  three  extraordinary  men,  justly  styled  by 
Bacon,  the  Magi  of  Kings  ;  men  who  understood  one  another  at  a 
word,  and  among  whom  a  community  of  interests  and  many  coin- 
cidences of  character  cemented  a  good  understanding. 

It  was,  besides,  an  epoch  of  expanding  intelligence  ;  paper,  giving 
wings  to  the  printed  words,  had  emancipated  knowledge  and  opened 
mines  of  learning  hitherto  confined  to  the  court  or  the  cloister. 

The  astrolabe,  forerunner  of  the  quadrant,  and  the  needle,  had, 
with  magnetic  power,  drawn  the  creeping  commerce  from  the 
coward  shores,  and  the  numerous  fleets  returned  freighted  with  the 
germs  of  peace,  wealth,  and  civilization  ;  the  establishment  of  mail 
posts  led  to  an  easy  and  constant  interchange  of  ideas,  and  inter- 
national intercourse  developed  a  diplomacy  which,  uniting  Europe 
into  one  family,  laid  the  balance  of  power  which  still  exists  and  so 
much  contributes  to  the  preservation  of  peace  throughout  the  civil- 
ized world. 

Such  was  the  character  of  the  age  when  a  child  of  destiny  ap- 
peared upon  the  theatre  of  events,  whose  illustrious  achievements 
were  to  enhance  beyond  belief  the  renown  of  his  age,  and  shed  un- 
dying glory  on  his  name. 

The  life  of  Christopher  Columbus  is  one  magnificent  tragedy;  the 
plot, — the  discovery  of  a  world  ;  the  moral, — the  vanity  of  human 
wishes,  a  good  man  struggling  against  undeserved  misfortune,  and 
sinking  into  his  grave  under  the  cold  ingratitude  of  those  whom  he 
exalted  and  enriched  by  his  genius,  his  courage,  and  his  immoiial 
enterprise. 

This  unparalleled  drama  opened  with  a  splendid  conception,  not  the 
child  of  accident,  but  of  long-cherished  and  matured  design  ;  the 
progress  is  impeded  by  delays  and  difficulties,  until  the  spurns  of 
patient  merit  are  succeeded  by  the  glory  of  the  triumph.  Once 
again  the  scenes  are  shifted,  and  from  their  odious  coverts  crawl 
foi-th  envy,  defamation,  persecution  ;  and  the  hero,  sore  of  heart, 
and  chilled  by  the  frosts  of  repeated  disappointments,  pines  in 
gloom  and  misery,  till  death,  a  welcome  deliverer,  lets  down  the 
curtain  on  one  of  the  grandest  and  most  mournful  careers  recorded 
in  human  history. 


414 

Let  us  glance  at  some  of  the  most  striking  incidents  in  the  event- 
f til  life  of  this  incomparable  man. 

Let  us  spread  the  wings  of  fancy  and  skim  in  thought  the  breezy 
surface  of  the  blue  Atlantic  till  we  reach  the  mouth  of  the  mighty 
Mediterranean.  As  the  first  flush  of  dawn  tinges  the  sky,  and  sows 
the  sea  with  orient  pearls,  we  discern  the  outlines  of  the  European 
and  African  coasts,  with  their  bold  projecting  headlands  and  lofty 
mountains,  peak  confronting  peak,  like  the  fabled  giants  of  antiquity 
marching  up  to  battle. 

Midway  between  the  pillars  of  Hercules,  the  glorious  sun, 

'•  Like  God's  own  head," 

rises  from  the  calm  waters  and 

"  Springs  exultant  on  his  grand  career," 

lighting  with  his  beacon  fires  the  mountains  of  two  continents. 
Along  the  Spanish  coast  range  the  green  vineyards  with  cosy,  pleas- 
ant cottages  scattered  among  them,  rising  in  lovely  terraces  far  up 
the  distant  hills  ;  while  on  the  African  side  the  bald,  bleak  moun- 
tains frown  grimly  down,  without  a  tuft  of  green  to  relieve  the 
aspect  of  sterility  from  the  dark-fronted  cliffs  beetling  over  the  sea 
to  the  sharp  peaks  covered  with  eternal  snow,  but  all  standing  oat 
with  matchless  sublimity  of  grouping.  Lo  !  there  stands  Gibraltar, 
its  summit  like  burnished  gold,  impregnable  as  time  itself,  rising 
1,500  feet  above  the  sea,  as  it  stood  when  washed  by  the  waves  of 
the  deluge,  nay,  for  centuries  oblivious  in  the  dim  mysterious  past. 
It  has  looked  down  on  empires  lost  and  won  ;  has  felt  the  shock 
of  navies  in  the  throes  of  battle,  and  has  been  scathed  by  the  light- 
ning of  heaven  ;   but,  like  that 

*•  Tideless  sea 
Which,  changeless,  rolls  eternally  '* 

beside  its  base,  it  stands  itself  unchangeable. 

On  our  left,  as  we  move  on,  rise  the  snow-capped  mountains  of 
Granada,  recalling  memories  of  Moorish  and  Christian  valor  in  con- 
flict on  those  lofty  slopes;  and  on  the  right,  stretches  far  away  the 
sandy  coast  of  Africa,  telling  its  mournful  story  to  the  sea,  sending 
its  wail  of  lamentation  across  the  waters,  and,  like  Rachel  for  her 
children,  weeping  uncomforted,  because  they  are  no  more. 


415 

Oiir  good  ship  cleaves  the  same  waters  which  long  ago  washed  the 
thi-ones  of  Egypt,  with  her  pyramids;  Carthage,  with  her  Hannibal; 
Granada,  with  her  chieftains;  Rome,  with  her  mailed  heroes;  Greece, 
with  her  poets;  Judea,  with  her  holy  city;  while  all  around  us,  on 
the  soft  air,  breathes  the  spirit  of  the  classic  world  and  the  conse- 
crated memories  of  the  past. 

The  mellow  sky  of  the  MediteiTanean  is  bending  over  us  with  its 
sparkling  stars;  the  moon's  silver  sheen  is  spread  upon  the  spacious 
deep,  and  the  melody  of  the  murmuring  waters  and  soft  sighing  of 
the  land-born  breeze,  are  like  spectral  voices  of  the  far-off  olden 
time.  We  are  sailing  the  same  sea  where  had  sailed  the  Rubicon 
Caesar;  Hannibal,  with  his  invincible  legions;  Agricola,  with  his  col- 
onists; Peter  the  Hermit,  with  his  bold  crusaders;  Paul,  with  his 
new  faith;  the  young  Corsican  on  his  way  to  a  new  throne;  and  the 
most  intrepid  navigator  of  any  age  upon  his  bold  path  to  a  new  con- 
tinent. 

We  now  gain  a  glimpse  of  the  land  of  the  orange  grove  and  myrtle 
bower;  the  land  where  the  olive  springs  from  the  bare  mountain-side, 
and  the  vine  shoots  spontaneous  in  rich  festoons  from  the  generous 
soil;  the  land  where  the  flowers  wreathe  with  chaplets  fair  the  falling 
columns  and  decaying  towers;  Italy,  whose  fostering  care  draws  noble 
life  from  senseless  marble  and  makes  dull  canvas  speak;  whose  magic 
tone  infused  in  music,  constrains  the  soul  with  passionate  tears  to 
own  the  power  of  melody;  Italy,  the  land  of  heroes,  and  the  birth- 
place of  him  whose  monument  is  a  hemisphere,  whose  fame  is 
eternal. 

C.  Edwards  Lester,  U.  S.  Consul  to  Genoa  in  1847,  was  the  first 
American  to  fix  the  spot  of  the  great  navigator's  bii'th.  In  the  fall 
of  that  year,  he  and  the  Count  of  Syracuse  started  in  the  American 
war-ship  Princeton  for  the  Western  Riviera  of  Genoa,  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  shores  of  the  world,  and  embarked  at  the  town  of 
Cogoleto,  eighteen  miles  from  the  city.  The  san,  for  some  time 
buried  behind  a  bank  of  clouds,  burst  forih  with  singular  splendor, 
and  flung  a  flood  of  golden  light  over  shore  and  mountain,  sea  and 
city.  Radiant  among' the  verdant  hills  nestled  the  birthplace  of  the 
great  hero,  and,  as  the  brave  American  tars  caught  sight  of  the  scene 
of  the  famous  navigator's  childhood,  their  feelings  gushed  forth  with 
powerful  emotion,  evinced  in  the  ready  tribute  of  their  tears.     There 


416 

lay  Gogol eto,  white  and  peaceful  in  the  mountains,  far  up  whose 
sides  the  hanging  gardens  and  vineyards  spread  their  verdurous 
mantle,  and  far  above  shone  the  heaven-kissing  peaks,  glistening 
like  gold  beneath  the  sapphired  heavens.  A  strong,  substantial 
structure,  tlu'ee  stories  high,  forming  an  irregular  pile  without  any 
pretension  to  architecture,  and  covered  with  the  dust  and  shadows  of 
five  centuries,  was  pointed  out  as  the  childhood  home  of  Christopher 
Columbus.  All  stand  silent  and  uncovered  before  this  monument  of 
departed  greatness,  for  they  feel  like  men  who  stand  on  consecrated 
ground.  Their  inspection  finished,  the  boat  rolls  out  upon  the  water 
amid  the  loud  swelling  shouts  and  cheers  of  the  villagers,  and  the  gal- 
lant old  commander  cries:  "  Give  the  grand  discoverer  a  gun  for  every 
State  in  the  Union."  As  the  giant  gun  on  the  bow  pours  forth  its 
thundering  salvos,  the  reverberations  seem  to  shake  the  distant  moun- 
tains, and  as  the  dying  echoes  play  among  the  hills,  each  peal,  each 
sound,  is  like  a  voice,  articulate  with  speech,  and  calling  out  from 
peak  to  peak  and  vale  to  vale,  Columbus !  Columbus  !  Columbus ! 

Just  as  the  sun  is  declining  to  his  Alpine  home,  the  beautiful 
steamer  enters  the  harbor  of  Genoa,  and  her  return  is  greeted  by 
shouts  of  welcome  from  the  thousands  of  spectators  gathered  along 
the  wharf  and  shore.  The  twilight  scene  is  strangely  beautiful.  The 
shining  orb  of  day  sinks  to  sleep  beyond  the  hills,  and  leaves  behind 
his  golden  splendor,  flooding  the  glacier  peaks,  the  blue  sea,  the 
marble  city,  and  the  purple  heavens.  The  chiming  of  the  city  towers 
send  their  vesper  melody  down  to  the  bay,  and  warbling  up  the 
hills  and  from  their  awakened  tops,  the  convent  bells  tone  back  from 
their  guardian  cypresses,  half  sad,  half  soothingly,  as  if  each  dirge- 
like sound  were  a  requiem  for  Columbus;  and  from  the  distant  beach 
each  roUing  wave  boomed  back,  Columbus ! 

Every  American's  view  of  Genoa  must  be  one  of  deep,  absorbing, 
and  tender  interest;  produced  not  by  the  mingled  wildness  and  soft- 
ness of  the  surrounding  landscape;  not  by  its  luxurious  climate  and 
gorgeous  palaces;  not  by  the  treasures  of  art  with  which  it  regales 
the  fancy  and  gratifies  the  taste;  but  by  the  thrilling  recollection 
that  it  is  nigh  the  home  and  birthplace  of  the  illustrious  discoverer 
of  our  native  hemisphere;  of  him  to  whom  America  owes  every- 
thing, her  civilization,  her  religion,  her  liberties,  her  illimitable  hopes, 
and  to  whom  the  family  of  mankind  owe  more  than  to  any  other 


417 

mortal  descendant  of  our  common  parents.  And  even  if  the  old 
house  were  gone  and  left  no  wreck  behind,  would  he  not  have  gath- 
ered from  the  spot  where  it  stood,  some  flower,  or  leaf,  or  pebble,  as 
a  precious  memorial  of  the  place  ?  Nay,  would  it  not  be  enough  to 
have  breathed  the  same  air  which  he  first  inhaled;  to  have  beheld 
the  sea  which  nursed  and  matured  him  for  his  fearless  march 
through  the  unknown  deep;  to  have  seen  those  mountains,  the 
neighboring  Alps  and  bordering  Apennines,  with  whose  spii'its  he 
was  wont  to  commune;  to  have  set  foot  in  that  consecrated  land  of 
heroes,  at  whose  redundant  fountains  of  light  his  youthful  lamp  was 
fed;  to  have  been  suiTounded  by  those  stiri'ing  associations  whicli 
inspired  him  with  the  lofty  but  not  unholy  ambition  of  being  great 
and  good;  which,  perhaps,  first  swelled  his  glowing  bosom  with  the 
mighty,  the  God- like  aspiration,  to  give  to  mankind  a  new  world  ? 

Columbus  loved  the  sea  from  boyhood,  with  that  fond  attachment, 
that  irresistible  yearning,  which  was  born  of  the  foresight  success. 
Married  to  a  sailor's  daughter,  he  had  learned  amid  the  storms  of 
Iceland  and  the  rock-bound  coasts  of  Africa,  that  practical  seaman- 
ship, that  capacity  for  observation  of  the  elements,  that  witchcraft  of 
knowledge  which  appeared  all  but  su^^erhuman,  not  only  to  super- 
stitious sailors,  but  also  to  some  of  the  most  enlightened  of  his 
time. 

An  excellent  cartographer,  he  at  first  supported  himself  by  making" 
charts,  though  sometimes  engaged  in  commercial  enterprise. 

A  vague  idea,  fed  by  popular  credulity  and  learned  speculation, 
based  chiefly  upon  some  poetical  aspirations  of  the  revived  classics, 
was  then  generally  prevalent,  that  a  path  of  glory  opened  by  the 
west  to  Asia,  to  far  Cathay,  the  land  of  Prester  John — a  region  of 
spice  and  pearls,  barbaric  pomp  and  gold. 

The  prophetic  eye  of  Columbus  pierced  through  the  twilight 
which  broke  upon  the  long  night  of  ages ;  the  train  of  his  innate 
impulses  was  fired,  and  when  he  had  carefully  satisfied  his  mind, 
conjecture  became  conviction  to  which  he  adhered,  despite  all  dis- 
couragement, with  indomitable  perseverance  and  impliable  tenacity. 

How  much  of  the  instinct  of  the  seer  glowed  in  his  own  bosom  he 

alone  could  tell  ;  but  in  his  character  and  his  conduct  he  displayed 

such  sanguine  expectations  of  success  that  it  seemed  as  if  some 

partial  revelation  had  been  vouchsafed  to  him  of  the  splendid  results 

27 


418 

which  must  of  necessity  follow  the  attempt  to  realize  the  divine  im- 
pulses which  had  blazed  up  in  his  own  soul  like  fire. 

Columbus  was  a  man  of  two  ideas, — one,  the  discovery  of  lands  ; 
the  other,  the  conversion  of  their  inhabitants  to  the  religion  of 
Christ.  In  view  of  the  bitterness  with  which  the  character  of  Co- 
lumbus is  assailed  by  the  illiberal  and  narrow-minded,  just  when  the 
civilized  world  is  preparing  to  do  honor  to  his  memory  by  commem- 
orating, with  due  festivity,  his  high  achievements,  it  is,  perhaps,  no 
more  than  due  to  his  fame  as  one  of  the  greatest  benefactors  of 
humanity  to  emphasize  the  pious  spirit  that  ruled  the  man  and 
impaired  a  religious  halo  to  his  fearless  enterprise. 

"  Among  Catholics  the  spirit  of  evangelization  has  always  gone  hand 
in  hand  with  that  of  discovery  ;  and  the  expression  of  Champlain, 
that  *  the  salvation  of  a  soul  is  worth  more  than  the  conquest  of  an 
empire,'  is  but  the  echo  of  the  mind  of  the  Church  in  every  age. 
This  same  spirit  has  been  felicitously  alluded  to  by  George  Bancroft 
when  he  says  :  'The  religious  zeal  of  the  French  bore  the  cross  to 
the  banks  of  the  St.  Mary,  and  the  confines  of  Lake  Superior,  and 
looked  wistfully  towards  the  houses  of  the  Sioux  in  the  valley  of  the 
Mississippi  five  years  before  the  New  England  Eliot  had  addressed 
the  tribes  that  dwelt  within  six  miles  of  Boston  harbor.' "  This  is  the 
spirit  of  the  Church  in  every  age,  and  it  jvas  especially  so  when  Co- 
lumbus appeared  before  the  chivalry  of  the  Spanish  court.  "  That  he 
should  have  been  zealous  for  the  conversion  of  the  lands  he  might 
discover,  was  to  be  expected  from  the  spirit  of  the  times  in  which  he 
lived;  such  motives  were  of  the  very  atmosphere  he  breathed."  We 
see  it  in  his  personal  piety  ;  in  the  name  of  his  flagship,  Santa 
Maria  ;  in  the  devotions  daily  held  on  board  ;  in  the  manner  in 
which  he  took  possession  of  the  lands  discovered  ;  in  the  names  he 
gave  to  them  ;  in  the  language  which  he  employed,  considering  him- 
self as  a  messenger  of  the  Gospel,  making  the  prophecies  of  the  Old 
Testament  relating  to  the  conversion  of  the  Gentile  applicable  to 
himself,  and  constantly  proclaiming,  whether  standing  as  a  beggar 
at  a  convent  gate,  explaining  his  scheme  of  discovery  to  learned  doc- 
tors and  cosmographers,  or  pleading  for  countenance  and  sujDport 
l)efore  kings  and  sovereigns,  that  he  "  was  an  ambassador  of  the 
Most  High,  chosen  by  His  infinite  goodness  to  announce  the  proposed 
discovery  of  the  Indies  to  the  most  potent  princes  of  Christendom, 


419 

that    he    might   labor    unceasingly   for    the    propagation    of    the 
faith." 

Mystical  and  religious,  he  considered  himself  an  humble  instru- 
ment in  the  hands  of  Providence  to  carry  as  the  dove  (which  his 
name,  Columbus,  signifies),  the  olive  branch  of  the  Gospel  to  be- 
nighted worlds.  This  and  his  own  honor  were  the  pivots  of  his 
mind,  and  the  religious  sentiment,  as  Irving  says,  "  mingled  with 
his  meditations,"  and  imparted  a  celestial  character  to  his  claims. 
"Standing  in  the  hand  of  heaven  he  read  his  contemplated  dis- 
covery foretold  in  Holy  Writ,  and  foreshadowed  in  the  mystic  reve- 
lations of  the  prophets."  The  ends  of  the  earth  were  to  be  brought 
together ;  all  nations,  all  tongues,  all  languages,  were  to  be  united 
under  the  banners  of  the  crucified  Kedeemer;  the  Church's  dream  of 
universal  occupation  was  to  be  realized  at  last,  and  every  valley 
was  to  be  filled,  every  mountain  laid  low  ;  the  rough  ways  made 
plain,  and  the  crooked  ways  straight,  that  all  flesh  might  see  the 
light  of  God's  salvation. 

Such  was  to  be  the  glorious  consummation  of  his  unexampled 
undertaking,  which  would  carry  the  banners  of  the  Gospel  into  the 
unexplored  regions  of  the  earth,  bring  the  light  of  the  true  faith  to 
them  that  sat  in  darkness  and  walked  in  the  shadow  of  death,  and 
gather  all  the  countless  tribes  of  men  into  one  Christian  empire 
under  the  dominion  of  the  Church  of  Jesus  Christ. 

The  seer-like  certainty  of  his  convictions  ;  the  simplicity  and  art- 
lessness  of  his  declarations  ;  the  imposing  importance  of  his  enter- 
prise, and  the  glowing  enthusiasm  of  liis  thoughts  and  ideas  lent 
force  and  weight  to  his  words,  and  dignity  and  loftiness  to  his  whole 
demeanor.  He  treated  with  kings  as  one  who  could  control  empires; 
he  conferred  with  sovereigns  as  one  on  a  plane  of  equality;  and  after 
long  delays  and  grievous  disappointments,  when  his  plans  were  re- 
jected at  Lisbon,  he  departed  in  disgust,  the  wide  world  before  him. 

Indeed,  the  intensity  of  his  behef  that  he  was  the  chosen  agent  of 
the  Almighty  to  carry  the  purposes  of  heaven  to  their  goal,  bore  him 
up  against  all  misfortune,  and  no  disappointment  could  dampen,  no 
opposition  could  check  the  ardor  of  his  pursuit  towards  his  coveted 
aim.  Yet,  though  regarding  his  impulse  to  discovery  as  divinely 
implanted  ;  though  considering  his  mind  as  illumined  by  the  mar- 
vellous brightness  of  heaven  ;  though  deeming  all  who  yielded  him 


420 

service  as  informed  by  supernatural  intimations, — and  all  for  the 
fulfillment  of  Scripture  concerning  his  stupendous  discovery;  never- 
theless, all  that  was  secondary  to  the  cherished  project  which  had  so 
long  laid  aside  of  his  heart, — the  recovery  and  the  restoration  of  the 
sepulchre  of  the  world's  Redeemer.  This  idea  it  was  that  dominated, 
nay,  transfigured,  the  whole  man  ;  this  it  was  that  filled  him  with 
the  spirit  of  the  old  crusaders,  that  made  a  knight-errant  for  the 
right  and  true  in  the  world  ;  and  a  like  doughty  cavalier  ready  to 
take  the  sword  against  the  Moslem  ;  this,  in  fine,  is  the  purpose  he 
meditated  as  far  back  as  1474,  when  he  conceived  his  route  to  the 
Indies  ;  which  he  clung  to  with  the  ardent  hope  of  a  lover  all 
through  life,  and  for  whose  realization  he  sought  to  make  provision 
on  his  death-bed  by  charging  his  posterity  to  turn  to  account  the 
prospective  gains  of  his  enterprise  to  the  delivery  of  the  Redeemer's 
tomb  from  the  sacrilegious  control  of  the  Saracen. 

As  from  the  trend  of  imperfectly  unknown  shores  and  tides,  from 
the  mysterious  indication  of  vague,  untracked  wilds,  he  could  de- 
duce a  glorious  certainty  of  hitherto  undreamed  continents;  so,  as 
an  ardent  spiritual  discoverer,  did  he  see  with  an  inextinguishable 
faith  the  hitherto  undreamed  heights  of  spiritual  glory  which  must 
be  surely  won  by  the  path  of  exploration  which  God  commissioned 
him,  as  he  conceived,  to  point  out  to  mankind. 

Such  were  the  lofty  and  disinterested  motives  that  impelled  him 
first  to  conceive,  and  then  to  carry  into  execution,  his  magnificent 
but  hazardous  undertaking. 

Columbus,  however,  was  not  merely  a  religious  enthusiast,  incited 
to  great  exploits  by  the  blind  ardor  and  passionate  rapture  of  a 
frenzied  zealot  or  deluded  day-dreamer.  His  high  hopes  and  ex- 
pectations were  not  founded  upon  air-built  phantoms,  but  upon  the 
rational  conclusions  of  the  thoughtful  investigator  and  practical 
man  of  science.  All  his  ideas  and  all  his  plans  show  unmistakably 
that  his  discovery  was  the  outcome  of  the  workings  of  his  mind 
upon  the  geographic  and  scientific  problems  of  his  age,  aided  by  the 
information  furnished  by  seafaring  men  and  the  product  of  personal 
experience.  His  conclusions  once  fixed,  he  never  wavered,  never 
doubted,  never  hesitated,  but  spoke  with  the  confident  assurance  of  an 
astronomer,  w^ho,  from  mathematical  calculation,  points  out  a  conjunc- 
tion of  the  heavenly  bodies  thousands  of  years  before  the  event  occurs. 


421 

Long  years  of  patient  study  lent  confirmation,  "  strong  as  Holy 
Writ,"  to  his  pre-established  convictions  and  carefully  formed 
theories.  He  neglected  no  opportunity  to  increase  his  information, 
and  spared  neither  toil  nor  time  to  enhance  his  knowledge  on  every 
point  that  bore  upon  his  pet  project  of  discovery.  He  made  liimself 
familiar  with  the  cosmography  of  the  ancients,  as  well  as  with  the 
science  of  his  own  day.  The  theories  of  Ptolemy,  the  descriptions 
of  Strabo,  and  the  voyages  of  Marco  Polo,  he  conned  and  studied 
the  best  portion  of  a  lifetime.  Plato's  opinions  regarding  the  im- 
aginary island  of  Atalantis;  Aristotle's  statement  concerning  the 
existence  of  Antilla,  a  great  island  in  mid-ocean,  discovered  by  the 
ancient  Cai-thaginians;  all  legendary  Spanish  lore  about  the  island 
of  Seven  Cities,  so  called  because  seven  bishops  who  fled  from  Spain 
at  the  period  of  the  Moorish  conquest  had  built  cities  thereupon; 
and  every  point  of  knowledge  bearing  on  these  theories,  he  was  in- 
timately conversant  with;  all  these  suppositions  he  passed  through 
the  crucible  of  criticism,  and  set  the  value  of  his  cool  judgment  and 
ripe  scholarship  upon  their  Hkelihood  or  improbabihty. 

Besides  rendering  himself  fully  acquainted  with  the  geographical 
and  historical  science  attainable  in  his  day,  with  the  writings  of  the 
Fathers  of  the  Church,  and  the  pages  of  the  inspired  volume;  he  in- 
terrogated the  heavens  and  the  stars,  and  sought  out  astronomical 
data  to  strengthen  his  own  theories  and  corroborate  his  opinions. 
What  was  that  theory,  whose  verification  immortalized  his  name 
and  disclosed  a  new  hemisphere  to  the  wondering  world  ? 

The  investigations  of  Columbus  led  him  to  infer  that  the  earth 
was  a  circumnavigable  sphere,  composed  of  land  and  water,  of 
which  at  least  one -third  had  never  been  discovered  by  mankind. 
This  supposition  being  accordant  with  the  truth,  he  rightly  reasoned 
that  by  a  direct  course  to  the  west,  he  must,  of  necessity,  arrive 
ultimately  at  the  eastern  extremity  of  the  Asiatic  continent.  He  felt 
a  serene  security  in  the  truth  of  this  theory,  and  knew  that  nothing 
but  the  hand  of  accident  or  the  designs  *of  Providence  could  defeat 
his  plans;  but  wafted  along  by  the  propitious  breezes  of  heaven  he 
was  persuaded  he  must  find  land  west  of  the  Canaries  or  the  Azores, 
then  the  most  westerly  terminus  of  maritime  enterprise. 

He  was  furtheimore  confirmed  in  his  opinions  by  speculations 
based  upon  a  study  of  the  maps  of  Ptolemy  and  Marinus  of  Tyre. 


422 

These  maps  were  in  many  respects  misleading  and  delusive.  Car- 
tography in  our  day  is  based  upon  facts  previously  ascertained  ta 
be  correct;  but  in  earlier  times  the  facts  of  locality  relating  to  the 
known  world  were  duly  described;  but  conjecture  and  imagin- 
ation helped  largely  in  aiding  scholars  to  trace  what  they  conceived 
to  be  the  unexplored  regions  of  the  earth.  Ptolemy  traced  the 
countries  about  the  Mediterranean  with  a  comparative  degree  of  cor- 
rectness; but  beyond  the  limit  of  familiar  frontiers,  and  the  visited 
portions  of  the  earth,  he  fancifully  represented  impenetrable 
swamps,  vast  tracts  of  deserts,  and  an  outlying  sea  of  dark  and 
sultry  waters.  He  recognized,  however,  the  sphericity  of  the  earth, 
and  marked  off  its  circumference  in  degrees,  whose  total  sum  was 
just  3,300  miles  short  of  actual  distance  as  determined  later. 

Paolo  Toscanelli,  a  celebrated  Florentine  scientist,  with  whom 
Columbus  maintained  correspondence,  calculated  that  it  was  but 
4,000  miles  from  Lisbon  to  Cathay  (Manze),  and  held  the  feasibility 
of  aiTiving  at  the  western  frontier  of  Asia  by  sailing  a  westerly 
course. 

Toscanelli's  figures  computed  the  earth's  circumference  at  about 
25,120  miles,  a  little  in  excess  of  the  truth.*  He  stretched  the  coast 
of  Asia  all  the  way  round  to  California,  and  considered,  conse- 
quently, that  the  ocean  which  lay  between  and  washed  the  shores  of 
Europe  could  be  traversed  by  a  fearless  navigator  like  Columbus. 

Columbus  rejected  Toscanelli's  figures  and  built  his  calculations 
rather  upon  those  of  Ptolemy  as  more  correct,  though  he  held  his 
own  theory  regarding  the  width  of  the  Atlantic  and  the  distance  to 
the  Indies.  His  deductions  led  him  to  suppose  that,  assuming  the 
circumference  of  the  earth  as  21,700  miles  nearly,  he  would  have  to 
sail  not  more  than  2,500  miles  to  reach  the  island  of  Zipanga,  or 
Japan,  off  the  eastern  coast  of  Asia.  Tbe  coast  of  Asia  was  by  him 
extended  to  the  70th  degree  of  longitude,  about  the  centre  of  the 
Island  of  Hispaniola.f  All  who  admitted  the  sphericity  of  the  earth 
believed  that  a  westerly  course  from  Spain  must  conduct  the  mariner 
to  the  eastei'n  coast  of  Asia;  but  it  never  entered  the  wildest  dream 
of  imagination  that  a  whole  continent,  almost  equal  in  extent  to  the 

*  The  writer  knows  all  authorities  are  not  agreed  upon  these  figures. 
f  What  is  now  the  97°  of  longitude  west  of  Greenwich,  corresponding  to  the 
meridian,  say,  of  Lincoln,  Neb. 


423 

old,  lay  between  these  distant  shores.  Had  Columbus  believed  that 
the  real  distance  from  the  Canaries  to  Japan  was  12,000  miles,  he  in 
all  human  reckoning  would  never  have  undertaken  such  a  voyage. 
His  two  eiTors,  therefore,  are,  in  some  sense,  responsible  for  his 
great  discovery, — one  was  the  imaginary  extent  of  the  eastern  con- 
tinent, suggested  by  Toscanelli  and  increased  by  Columbus;  the 
other,  the  limitation  of  the  earth's  circumference  to  23,500  miles; 
both  contributing  to  render  feasible  the  great  scheme  of  evangeliza- 
tion of  the  inhabitants  of  the  East,  and  the  enrichment  of  the  Span- 
ish treasury  from  the  fabulous  resources  of  the  Indies,  which  occu- 
pied the  mind  of  the  intrepid  navigator  and  inspired  him  to  com- 
mence a  voyage  without  parallel  in  the  history  of  the  human  race. 

Nor  do  these  errors  of  judgment,  by  no  means  surprising  in  the 
infancy  of  geographical  science,  detract  in  any  degree  from  the 
real  merit  of  his  mighty  discovery. 

His  marvellous  voyage  was  undertaken  hardly  more  in  a  religious 
than  scientific  spirit;  he  had  a  scientific  theory  to  demonstrate, — the 
sphericity  of  the  earth, — and  he  hoped  to  prove  it  practically  by 
sailing  round  the  globe.  He  believed,  with  Eoger  Bacon  and  Tos- 
canelli, that  the  earth  was  globular  in  form,  and  this  faith  which  was 
in  him  he  would  establish  to  the  confusion  of  the  incredulous  by 
going  from  Spain  to  Cathay  and  returning  by  the  Mediterranean. 
Mark  Twain  sneeringly  observes  that  Columbus  had  not  much  labor 
to  perform  in  the  discovery  of  America;  he  had  but  to  sail  straight 
ahead  and  would  bump  against  it.  The  thing  was  to  find  a  man 
who  had  the  genius  to  conceive,  the  skill  to  plan,  the  courage  and 
the  indomitable  perseverance  to  effect  such  discovery.  It  has  been 
acutely  observed  by  Mr.  Bellamy,  and  it  is  a  just  and  elegant  reflec- 
tion, that  the  undertaking  of  Columbus  was  the  more  meritorious  in 
that  he  did  not  sail  to  find  a  new  continent,  but  to  prove,  in  support 
of  a  preconceived  scientific  hypothesis,  the  rotundity  of  the  earth,  by 
a  perilous  and  trackless  voyage  across  the  circumference.  No  one 
before  his  day  dared  to  demonstrate  a  scientific  theory  by  sailing- 
upon  an  unknown  and  unexplored  sea  of  darkness.  This,  together 
with  his  lofty  religious  aims,  constitutes  the  glory  of  Columbus,  and 
has  set  upon  his  brow  a  wreath  of  fame,  the  noblest  ever  given  to 
mortal  man;  that  has  placed  him  upon  a  pinnacle  of  greatness 
among  those  immortal  and  illustrious  geniuses  who  are  not  bom  to 


424 

die.  "  His  idea,"  as  Irving  observes,  "  was  the  conception  of  his  own 
genius;  quickened  by  the  impulses  of  his  time,  and  aided  by  those 
scattered  gleams  of  knowledge  which  fell  ineffectually  upon  ordinary 
minds." 

Among  these  gleams  of  knowledge  w^ere  those  indications  of  land 
to  the  west,  which  were  borne  by  the  waves  towards  the  European 
shores.  Trunks  of  pines  of  gigantic  dimensions;  reeds  of  immense 
size  like  those  supposed  to  flourish  in  India;  branches  of  trees  un- 
known to  the  inhabitants  of  the  eastern  hemisphere;  strangely 
shaped  boats  which  were  doubtless  Indian  canoes;  curiously  carved 
wooden  figures,  wrought  without  aid  of  iron  tool  or  instrument;  and 
more  startling  and  convincing  than  all,  the  bodies  of  men  not  belong- 
ing to  the  Caucasian  family  of  the  race, — all  were  eagerly  seized  upon 
by  the  active  and  prying  mind  of  Columbus  as  proof  of  his  long-cher- 
ished theory;  and  thus,  with  a  rational  hypothesis,  supported  by 
science  and  strengthened  by  facts,  which  careful  analysis  had  sifted 
from  popular  rumors  and  fanciful  traditions,  he  set  out  with  that 
exultation  of  spirit  and  hopefulness  of  heart,  which  to  the  end  of  his 
life  marked  the  character  of  this  extraordinary,  supermortal  man, 
to  wrest  from  an  unwilling  world  aid  and  assistance  for  an  experi- 
ment, which  before  its  achievement  was  deemed  mid-summer  mad- 
ness, but  which,  when  accomplished,  was  hailed  less  human  than  di- 
vine. Such  is  the  history  of  man.  And  to  their  eternal  honor  be  it 
told,  were  it  not  for  the  friendly  offices  and  practical  sympathy  of  a 
Catholic  priest,  a  Catholic  archbishop,  and  a  Catholic  queen,  Colum- 
bus, instead  of  giving  to  Leon  and  Castile  a  new  world,  might  have 
faded  away  in  hopeless  obscurity,  and  died  in  grief  and  dejection, 
had  he  passed,  unnoticed  and  unwelcomed,  the  convent  gate  of  La 
Rabida, 

There  is  a  Franciscan  convent  at  St.  Maria  de  Rabida — it  stands  to 
this  day,  and  should  be  carted  stone  by  stone  to  the  Columbian  Ex- 
position; an  unknown  stranger  presents  himself  at  its  portals  to  beg, 
for  sweet  charity's  sake,  a  cup  of  water  and  a  crust  of  bread  for 
his  little  boy.  That  stranger  is  ChristojDher  Columbus.  Juan  Perez 
de  Marchena — ^honor  to  his  name  and  calling — ^had  been  confessor 
to  Queen  Isabella;  he  became,  no  doubt,  by  the  agency  of  Provi- 
dence, a  second  father  to  the  boy  and  a  patron  to  the  parent.  The 
prior's  attention  is  arrested  by  the  stately  port  and  intelligent  de- 


425 

meanor  of  Columbus.  He  listens  to  his  absorbing  history;  learns  his 
wonderful  plans,  and  not  unskilled  himself  in  science,  he  grasps  the 
importance  of  Columbus'  mission,  and  prepares  to  second  with  the 
ardor  of  convictioii  the  navigator's  effoiis  to  realize  the  hopes  a»d 
dreams  of  a  checkered  lifetime.  Furnished  by  the  influential  prior 
with  commendatory  letters  of  an  urgent  and  flattering  character,  he 
repairs  to  the  court  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella  to  plead  his  cause  be- 
fore the  Catholic  sovereigns  of  Spain.  Their  majesties  are  inter- 
ested; their  curiosity  is  piqued;  their  love  of  glory  is  aroused;  but 
the  magnitude  of  the  enterprise  staggers,  while  its  nature  and  possi- 
bilities confound  them  and  outreach  their  understanding.  Columbus 
is  referred  to  a  council  of  divines  at  Salamanca,  who  were  commis- 
sioned to  consider  his  claims  and  pronounce  judgment  upon  the 
cause  he  advocated.  The  beautiful  convent  where  the  conclave  met 
still  stands,  having  escaped  the  ravages  of  the  French  and  corrosions 
of  time.  The  traveller  may  still  tread  through  spacious  halls  where 
the  arguments  of  Columbus  were  rebutted  by  the  teachings  of  Au- 
gustine and  Lactantius,  and  the  texts  of  Holy  Writ.  Some,  to  their 
credit  and  foresight,  supported  him  with  enthusiasm ;  others  thought 
him  a  reckless  adventurer  or  a  simple  visionary;  and  the  great  man 
was  silenced  by  the  majority,  who  pronounced  his  plan  vain,  imprac- 
ticable, and  unworthy  of  support.  Columbus  returned  to  court  re- 
jected, but  not  cast  down.  His  earnest  self-confidence,  his  enthusi- 
astic devotion  to  his  idea,  obtained  the  respect  of  Isabella,  whom  Ir- 
ving has  justly  styled  one  of  the  purest  and  most  beautiful  characters 
known  to  history.  She  holds  out  encouragement  to  the  petitioner; 
there  was  sympathy  in  their  kindred  minds;  she  bids  him  bide  his 
time,  and  meantime  provides  him  with  a  home  and  maintenance. 
After  seven  long  and  weary  years  of  oft-repeated  pleading, — years  of 
promises,  ending  in  chilling  disappointment,  years  of  hope  deferred, — 
Columbus  is  crossing  the  bridge  at  Pinos,  retiring  forever,  sore  and 
sick  at  heart,  when  once  more  he  is  recalled.  The  faithful  prior  had 
come  to  plead  in  person  with  the  gentle  Isabella  in  behalf  of  his  de- 
spondent friend.  The  appeal  is  answered  with  success.  Noble 
woman;  her  name  is  inseparably  intertwined  with  the  glory  of  Amer- 
ica. **  I  will  undertake  the  enterprise  for  mine  own  crown  of  Castile," 
she  cries,  "  and  will  pledge  my  jewels  to  raise  the  necessary  funds.'* 
Columbus  prepares  for  the  voyage,  when  the  soitows  and  disap- 


426 

pointments  of  fifty-seven  years  of  life  had  already  laid  their  burden 
upon  his  shoulders.  After  much  delay  and  difficulty  in  securing 
crews,  he  embarked  in  three  wretched  caravels  upon  his  dangerous 
eKploit.  What  a  fearful  launching  into  the  unknown  deep  that  was, 
we,  in  these  days  of  easy  navigation,  fail  to  understand.  Sailing  oat 
upon  a  dim  and  soundless  sea  which  no  man  had  ever  traversed, 
whence  naught  but  tempest-tossed  fragments  had  ever  come  to 
civilized  shores,  the  desponding  crew  might  well  bid  the  living  world 
farewell  And  as  they  left  the  lessening  shore,  till  their  sails  seemed 
but  a  dot  upon  the  horizon  to  those  who  stood  upon  the  strand  and 
waved  in  vain  the  tell-tale  hand,  many  a  heart  felt  heavy,  many  an 
eye  grew  dim. 

You  know  the  story  of  that  adventurous  voyage,  which  began  on 
Friday,  the  3d  day  of  August,  and  ended  on  Friday,  the  12th  of 
October,  1492. 

The  bright  sun  rose  cheerily  and  before  the  piping  blast  the  little 
caravels  rode  gaily  over  the  summer  seas,  and  doubtless  many  a 
mariner,  with  heart  of  hope,  blessed  in  prayer  the  blue  ocean,  the 
bright  sky  and  God's  all-favoring  air. 

Still  out  they  sail  upon  the  watery  waste,  past  unknown  tides  and 

seas  where 

"  So  lonely  'tis  that  God  Himself 
Scarce  seemed  there  to  be. " 

The  very  winds  that  waft  them  from  home  appear  to  bar  their  re- 
turn again.  Their  faithful  guide,  the  needle,  declines  its  wonted 
task  ;  clouds  take  on  the  shape  of  headlands  ;  and  the  mirage  of  the 
deep  mocks  their  land-sick  fancy,  and  blasts  while  it  excites  their 
hopes.  On  the  very  verge  of  discovery  they  rise  in  mutiny,  clamor 
to  go  back,  and  threaten  the  sore-tried  admiral  with  a  grave  within 
the  deep,  should  he  withhold  compliance.  Columbus  staked  his  life 
upon  the  cast;  failure  is  dishonor  worse  than  death  ;  he  soothes,  he 
threatens,  he  coaxes,  and  one  day  of  trial  is  granted.  One  day,  but 
for  the  commander  what  agony  and  suspense  !  Through  the  long, 
lonely  hours  he  stands  upon  the  prow,  keeping  the  night-watch,  and 
communing  with  the  stars  and  with  God.  Sleep  has  forsaken  his 
eyes,  and  rest,  his  weary  limbs  ;  but  still  there  he  stands,  sweeping 
the  horizon  with  his  eagle  glance,  straining  his  tired  eyes  towards  the 
west,  till  at  last  they  catch  the  faint  flicker  of  a  light — 'tis  land.     O ! 


427 

blessed  light !     O  happy  land  !     To  him  alone  was  reserved  the  first 
sight  of  this  new  world — the  eternal  monument  of  his  renown. 

The  great  mystery  was  unlocked  ;  the  silent  ocean  yielded  up  her 
secret  to  the  mind  of  man;  and  he,  the  despised  and  disheartened 
discoverer  whose  life  was  in  jeopardy  biit  an  hour  before,  was 
worshipped  as  a  demi-god  by  his  mutinous  and  rebellious  followers, 
who  now  beheld  in  him  a  being  of  princely  dignity,  the  dispenser  of 
fame  and  fortune,  and  falling  at  his  feet 

"  They  blessed  the  wondrous  man." 

It  was,  perhaps,  worth  all  the  trials  and  disappointments  of  the 
past, — that  joyful  moment  of  hope  proudly  realized  ;  of  faith  made 
perfect  in  vision;  and  as  the  rising  sun  reveals  the  verdant  land  just 
beyond  the  crystal  waters,  the  little  band,  attired  in  festal  dress,  em- 
barked upon  the  shore  with  their  swords  unsheathed,  and  their  cross- 
emblazoned  banners  fluttering  in  the  breeze.  I  seem  to  see  them 
now,  those  pioneers  of  civilization  in  the  new  world  ;  see  them  as 
they  first  alight  upon  the  virgin  soil,  stooping  down  in  reverence  to 
kiss  the  sod  and  thank  the  great  Creator.  I  see  them,  and  seem  to 
hear  the  voice  of  the  high  admiral,  calm,  sweet,  grateful,  and  reso- 
nant, as  he  pours  forth  his  prayer  of  gratitude  and  praise  : 

"  Lord  God,  Eternal  and  Omnipotent,  who  by  Thy  sacred  word 
has  created  the  sky  and  the  earth  and  the  sea,  we  bless  and  glorify 
Thy  name  and  praise  Thy  majesty.  How  honored  are  we.  Thy 
humble  servants,  that  through  us  Thy  name  may  be  knawn  and  Thy 
Gospel  preached  in  this  the  uttermost  part  of  the  earth." 

Thus  did  the  first  discoverers  seal  this  continent  for  Christ  ;  thus 
the  first  act  of  the  first  men  who  trod  our  soil  was  an  act  dedicating 
and  consecrating  it  to  the  service  of  God  ;  and  as  they  ai'ose  from 
bended  knees  they  took  possession  of  the  land  in  the  name  of  Isa- 
bella, the  Catholic  Queen  of  Spain,  and  named  it  San  Salvador,  after 
Christ  our  Saviour. 

The  policy  of  Columbus  was  marked  by  lenity  and  mildness  ;  he 
displayed  good  faith,  humanity,  and  justice  in  his  transactions  ;  he 
sought  to  conciliate  the  natives,  and  respected  their  women  and  their 
chiefs,  by  whom  his  kindness  was  never  forgotten,  as  shown  in  the 
touching  and  beautiful  fidelity  which  marked  their  friendship  to- 
wards him. 


428 

But  alas !  for  this  elysium  of  the  sea  ;  this  arcadian  land  of  eter- 
nal spring.  Alas  !  for  these  simple,  virtuous  people,  these  kind  and 
hospitable  men,  these  groups  of  beautiful  women,  who  came  foiih 
from  the  palm  groves  like  dancing  Dryads  from  the  woods,  with  ever 
smiling  faces  and  melodious  songs  from  morning  until  evening  to 
welcome  these  heavenly  visitors.  Their  dreams  of  new-found  bliss 
were  of  short  duration.  But  it  is  ever  so  ;  the  simplicity  of  barbaric 
life  meets  extinction  rather  than  elevation  before  the  march  of  civil- 
ization. 

Columbus,  however,  returned  to  Europe  without  a  blot  upon  his 
name,  a  reproach  upon  his  conscience,  or  a  single  drop  of  blood 
upon  his  hands.  His  homeward  journey  is  harassed  by  a  hurricane. 
Dark  clouds  overcast  the  sky;  fields  of  fleecy  scud  pass  in  whirling 
eddies  overhead, — through  many  dark  days  there  is  no  cessation  of 
the  elemental  strife  ; — of 

"  The  eloquent  storm  pouring  forth  its  wild  voice 
Upon  the  night,  grand,  sublime,  and  terrible  ; 
And  the  electric  blazon  of  the  clouds, 
And  the  vibrations  of  the  frightened  sea, 
As  mast  and  shroud  answer  to  the  thunder-shock." 

His  thoughts  at  this  trying  moment  are  set  forth  with  the  sim- 
plicity of  greatness  in  his  journal ;  they  turn  fondly  back  to 
his  two  boys  at  Cordova,  and  his  feelings  are  more  concerned  with 
the  salvation  of  his  unfortunate  crew  than  with  his  own  loss  of  fame 
and  glory.  " 

At  length  he  reaches  Spain,  and  lands  like  a  spirit  from  the  dead, 
among  whom  he  was  long  since  numbered. 

His  progress  is  a  glorious  triumph;  his  sovereigns  seat  him  in 
their  presence;  his  lofty  bearing  marks  him  as  a  hero;  his  gray 
hairs  tell  of  trials  and  perils;  his  name  is  the  theme  of  every  tongue; 
cities,  towns,  and  villages  empty  themselves  that  every  inhabitant 
may  cry :  "  'Tis  he,  Columbus  !  "  But  short  the  glory  of  Columbus. 
One  short  month  was  the  honeymoon  of  his  fame.  Such  is  the  in- 
stability of  human  praise;  such  the  ingratitude  of  man. 

The  closing  years  of  this  great  man's  life  form,  as  I  indicated,  a 
thrilling  tragedy.  The  sorrows  of  his  youth  were  but  the  presage 
of  the  grief  that  clouded  his  declining  days. 

On  the  second  voyage  he  becomes  the  butt  of  calumny  and  the 


429 

mark  of  detraction.  "  Absent,  envied,  and  a  foreigner,"  as  he  said 
himself,  he  falls  a  victim  to  petty  spite,  and  the  evil  geniuses  who, 
wanton  in  official  insolence,  effect  his  recall.  Shame  and  persecu- 
tion; the  desertion  of  his  own  trusted  followers,  and  the  broken 
pledges  of  his  sovereign,  Ferdinand,  are  the  only  recompense  of  his 
great  discovery. 

By  the  order  of  the  arrogant  minion  who  supplanted  him,  Boab- 
dilla,  he  is  carried  back  to  Europe  a  prisoner,  and  though  old  and 
venerable,  in  chains  and  fetters.  With  a  disdainful  indignation,  he 
refuses  to  have  this  badge  of  sei'vitude  and  humiliation  removed; 
he  would  let  the  world  behold  his  disgrace,  and  even  after  they  were 
stricken  from  his  limbs  by  the  outraged  sense  of  public  justice,  he 
preserved  them  as  memorials  of  the  reward  his  services  received, 
and  they  *'  were  hung  in  his  chamber,  buried  in  his  grave." 

The  tender-souled  Isabella,  his  friend  to  the  last,  soothes  his 
wounded  spirit;  and  he  that  could  brook  disgrace  and  endure  im- 
prisonment falls  subdued  in  tears  at  her  feet. 

The  great  admiral  departs  on  his  last  and  most  disastrous  voyage; 
and  after  suffering  all  the  miseries  of  destitution,  sickness,  mutiny, 
and  shipwreck,  he  returns  buffeted  and  worn  out,  broken  in  mind 
and  body,  to  find  himself  forgotten  and  un welcomed  by  all.  To 
add  the  last  drop  of  agony  to  his  sorrow-brimming  cup,  he  finds  his 
generous  patroness,  his  only  friend  in  the  wide  world,  the  gracious 
Isabella,  on  her  death-bed.  Forgotten  by  his  king,  and  left  in  his 
old  age  "naked  to  his  enemies,"  he  pleaded  in  vain,  that  having 
slaved  for  his  sovereigns  as  if  to  gain  paradise,  he  was  a  homeless 
beggar  after  his  unselfish  service  of  twenty  years.  Left  in  an  ob- 
scure home  to  die  in  poverty  and  loneliness;  forgotten  and  forsaken 
by  all,  he  never  learned  the  gi*eatness  of  his  discovery,  while  the 
new  world  which  he  had  brought  to  light  was  named  to  perpetuate 
the  honor,  not  of  himself,  but  of  another. 

His  death  occurred  at  Valladolid,  on  the  20th  of  May,  1506,  in  the 
seventieth  year  of  his  age.  His  last  hours  were  calm,  peaceful,  and 
happy,  and  he  that  discovered  one  world  here  upon  eai-th,  looked 
hopefully  forward  to  the  discovery  of  another, 

"  Where  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling,  and  the  weary  are  at  rest." 

But  even  his  bones  have  been  denied  that  rest  (the  last  prayer  of 
Shakespeai-e).      They  were    removed    to    Seville,   thence    to    San 


430 

Domingo,  and  finally,  in  1795,  to  Havana,  where  they  were  but 
little  noticed  or  honored;  so  that  he  who  was  forlorn  and  friendless 
in  life,  seems  hardly  less  so  in  death. 

Columbus  seemed  ever  the  sport  of  accident,  by  which  in  our  ig- 
norance, I  suppose,  we  understand  the  mysterious  workings  of 
Providence.  Like  Moses,  he  never  beheld  the  land  of  promise  to 
which  he  had  guided  others.  The  vision  of  glory  he  beheld  from 
afar  seemed  ever  to  vanish  like  a  poet's  dream,  or  like  some  ignis 
fatuus  which  tantalized,  while  it  beckoned  him  on. 

Had  he  not  changed  his  course  on  his  first  voyage  on  the  7th  of 
October,  to  "W.S.W.,  he  would  have  made  the  Floridas,  and  given 
North  America  to  the  Spanish  crown;  and  had  he  not  on  the  12th 
of  November  turned  E.S.E.,  he  would  have  carried  the  banners  of 
Spain  into  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  and  perhaps  peopled  the  continent, 
not  with  the  Anglo-Saxon,  but  with  the  Latin  race. 

Four  hundred  years  have  gone  by  since  his  advent  on  these 
shores,  and  after  400  years  the  day  of  the  triumph  is  at  hand.  His 
judgment  in  the  justice  of  posterity  is  to-day  vindicated,  and  his 
fame  is  secure  evermore.  No  man  born  of  woman  has  ever  been 
accorded  the  honors  which,  like  a  garland  of  grateful  remembrance, 
are  laid  upon  his  tomb  to-day.  To-day  his  memory  shines  forth 
from  the  tomb  with  unclouded  brightness,  and  the  glory  that 
seemed  to  shun  his  mortal  course  in  life  blazes  around  him  with 
effulgent  splendor  in  the  grave.  To-day  all  claims  of  prior  discov- 
ery are  swept  aside,  neither  Dane,  nor  Norseman,  nor  Celt,  nor  any 
other  aspirant  whatever,  is  considered  as  sharing  the  laurels  or 
dividing  the  fame  which  is  the  inheritance  and  crown  of  Columbus 
forever.  To-day  many  nations  feel  honored  in  claiming  him  for 
their  own,  and  here  in  these  United  States,  more  than  sixty  millions 
of  those  whose  creed  he  professed,  and  whose  faith  he  first  planted 
on  the  shores  of  this  continent,  all  rise  up  with  one  voice  and  one 
accord  to  hail  the  four  hundredth  anniversary  of  the  birth  of  a  new 
world,  and  to  pass  down  upon  the  breezes  of  undying  history  to  the 
latest  posterity  the  renown  of  him  whom  all  future  generations  will 
delight  to  honor,  as,  on  each  succeeding  centennial  of  his  immortal 
discovery,  they  will  unite,  as  we  do  now,  to  bless  the  name  and 
revere  the  memory  of  Christopher  Columbus,  the  Christ-bearer  to 
the  new-found  Western  World. 


VI 

THE  MISSION  AND  PROGRESS  OF  THE  CATHOLIC 
CHURCH  IN  THE  UNITED   STATES. 

DEDICATION    OF    THE     CHURCH    OF    THE    HOLY    CROSS,   HAR- 

RISOTf,   N.   J. 

The  cross  is  the  symbol  of  Christianity.  Christianity  is  a  fact,  and 
that  fact  is  the  Catholic  Church.  Men  come  to  Christianity  through 
the  Church,  and  not  to  the  Church  through  Christianity.  It  is  the 
Church  that  makes  Christian  believers,  and  not  believers  that  make 
the  Church.  To  know  the  nature  and  constitution  of  the  Church  is, 
then,  the  supreme  study  of  the  Christian. 

The  history  of  the  Church,  with  sorrow  be  it  said,  is  in  great  part 
a  history  of  heresy.  But  "  it  must  needs  be  that  scandals  come." 
In  the  wide  domain  of  heterodoxy,  no  novelty  is  now  possible. 
From  Genesis  to  Revelation  every  doctrine  has  been  impugned;  nay, 
the  entire  system  of  religion  has  been  by  turns  accepted,  contro- 
verted, denied,  and  rejected.  Upon  the  stormy  shores  of  sin  the 
waves  of  passion,  the  winds  of  pride,  and  the  fires  of  feeling  have 
rioted  for  ages,  and  the  gorgon  heresy  has  raised  his  hydra-head  to 
battle  with  the  bark  upon  the  waters.  But  in  the  midst  of  the 
clouds  and  darkness,  clear  above  the  clamor  of  the  storm  and  the 
roar  of  the  moral  tornado,  a  voice  is  heard,  clear,  sharp,  electric,  im- 
perative, as  of  yore,  crying,  "  Peace !  be  still."  "  Fear  not,  little 
flock,  for  it  hath  pleased  your  Father  to  give  unto  you  a  kingdom  " 
"  Great  God,"  exclaims  the  Royal  Prophet,  "  Thou  hast  put  on  praise 
and  beauty;  Thou  hast  clothed  Thyself  with  light  as  with  a  gar- 
ment; Thou  hast  stretched  out  the  heavens  as  a  vast  pavilion;  Thou 
hast  made  the  clouds  Thy  chariot,and  Thou  walkest  on  the  wings  of  the 
wind;  Thou  hast  founded  the  earth  on  its  own  basis,  and  the  deep, 


432 

like  a  garment,  is  its  clothing.  The  mountains  here  ascend,  there  the 
valleys  sink  down  between  the  hills  to  receive  the  plenteous  waters 
which  Thou  hast  commanded  to  flow  for  their  refreshment."  "  The 
Almighty  stood,"  says  Habacuc,  "  and  measured  the  earth ;  He 
looked  and  dissolved  the  nations,  for  power  and  strength  are  in  His 
hands.  He  touched  the  trembling  hills,  and  they  were  instantly 
wrapped  in  smoke;  the  ancient  mountains  burst  in  pieces;  the  rocks 
melted  away  like  wax,  and  the  pillars  of  the  heavens  were  forced 
from  their  foundations.  For  the  ways  of  the  Lord  are  in  the  tem- 
pest and  the  whirlwind,  and  clouds  are  the  dust  of  His  feet.  The 
hills  and  the  lonesome  mountains  shake  under  Him;  the  flower  of 
Lebanon  fades  away;  the  beauty  of  Basan  and  Carmel  perish;  the 
earth,  the  world,  and  all  that  dwell  therein,  sunk  down  in  the  pres- 
ence of  the  Lord  of  Hosts,  in  the  presence  of  the  God  of  Jacob." 
"  I  heard,"  siys  St.  John,  '•'  as  it  were  a  universal  voice;  and  it  was 
the  voice  of  every  living  creature  in  the  heavens,  and  on  earth, 
and  in  the  sea.  And  they  cried  out  with  one  accord,  *  Glory  and 
honor,  and  benediction  and  power  and  empire  to  God  and  to  the 
Lamb,  forever  and  ever.'"  Who  shall  not  fear  the  Lord,  and  who 
not  magnify  Thy  name !  And  who  shall  dare  to  overturn  the  works 
which  Thy  hands  have  wrought ! 

"  Pride  makes  heresy,"  says  Abelard,  "  and  heresy,  which  is  the 
spirit  of  Antichrist,  dissolveth  Jesus  and  wageth  war  upon  the  Most 
High  God."  "  By  that  sin  fell  the  angels;  how  then,  shall  man,  the 
image  of  his  Maker,  hope  to  win  by  it  ?  " 

It  is  something  severely  sad  to  stand  upon  the  highways  of  his- 
tory and  scan  the  figures  of  the  fiery  heresiarchs,  as,  panoplied  with 
the  armor  of  iniquity,  they  go  trooping  by  in  the  panorama  of  the 
past.  Since  the  Roman  legionaries  drew  their  lots  therefor,  how 
many  madcaps,  spawned  by  heresy,  have  sought  to  rend  the  seamless 
coat  of  Christ  ? 

In  the  forefront  of  the  line  were  those  who  taught  that  our  Lord's 
humanity  was  a  phantom, — a  chimera.  A  Christ,  burdened  with  a 
body,  but  a  Saviour  without  a  human  soul,  was  the  absurd  fiction  of 
Apollinaris.  The  arrogance  of  Arius  made  Him  a  God-kin,  far  in- 
ferior to  His  Father.  Some,  on  His  Divine,  desired  to  implant  a 
human  personality.  Others  proclaimed  for  Him  a  single  will,  while 
more  confused  and  denied  the  duality  of  His  nature. 


433 

The  votaries  of  voluptuousness,  pilfering  tlie  phUosopliy  of  Plato, 
would  found  a  republic,  wliere  each  citizen  would  enjoy  the  privi- 
lege of  inability  to  point  out  his  father;  the  fanatical  followers  of  the 
Persian  Magi  foully  conceived  a  code  of  morahty  whereby  they 
might  marry  the  mothers  that  bore  them;  and  finally,  to  the  Albigen- 
sian  heresiarchs  belongs  the  immortal  infamy  of  giving  worship  to  a 
god  wed  to  a  brace  of  fair  women. 

From  the  corruption  of  the  heart  and  the  vanity  of  the  mind  orig- 
inates this  eagerness  to  propagate  new  systems,  the  tendency  where- 
of is  to  slacken  the  reins  that  curb  the  irregularity  of  our  appetites, 
and  restrain  the  impetuosity  of  our  passions.  Solomon  tried  mirth, 
and  it  was  mad;  wine,  and  it  was  folly;  yet  he  grew  dissolute  be- 
fore he  glided  into  idolatry.  We  lose  our  innocence  before  we 
laugh  at  our  catechism. 

Vanity  is  one  of  those  foreign  ingredients  sown  in  the  soil  of  our 
nature  instead  of  original  justice.  It  stimulates  the  purbhnd  philos- 
opher to  erect  the  banners  of  error  upon  the  ruins  of  truth.  It 
loves  to  pursue  untrodden  paths,  and  think  apart  from  the  multitude ; 
and  it  often  prefers  the  notoriety  of  vice  to  the  obscurity  of  virtue. 
*'  Vanity,"  says  Montaigne,  "  is  the  mother  of  all  the  sects  and  systems." 

Most  men  pique  themselves  upon  the  singularity  of  their  opin- 
ions, and  the  freshness  and  originahty  of  their  views,  and  even  while 
they  disclaim  the  notion,  pride  or  vanity  is  the  spring  of  all  their 
performance.  Pride  impugns  the  truth  of  God,  and  is  the  prolific 
parent  of  heresy.  Minds  defeated  in  dissecting  a  fly,  must  arraign 
the  ways  of  Omnipotence,  and  sound  the  unfathomable  ocean  of  re- 
ligion, where  the  smallest  atom  that  swims  on  the  surface  baffles  the 
sharpest  scrutiny. 

Of  the  aberrations  of  the  human  intellect  in  the  sphere  of  religion, 
the  preponderating  portion,  if  not  all,  are  born  of  the  misconception 
or  confusion  of  two  elementary  ideas  that  pervade  the  universe, — 
unity  and  multiplicity.  In  the  one  God  are  three  divine  persons  ;  in 
the  human  soul,  three  faculties  ;  in  the  individual  man,  two  parts. 
Every  society ^has  many  members  ;  every  tree  bears  many  branches, 
every  flower  is  formed  of  many  petals,  and  every  molecule  of  matter 
comprises  many  atoms. 

The  confusion  of  these  simple  ideas  is  the  misfortune  of  modern 
philosophy,  or  rather  the  proud  pretensions  of  sciolism. 
28 


434 

With  Giordano  Bruno  and  Teutonic  thinkers,  some  expunge 
the  idea  of  multiplicity,  and,  teaching  that  God  is  the  only  substance, 
they  fashion  the  prodigious  fabric  of  Pantheism.  Others,  placing 
multiplicity  in  the  foreground,  the  members  before  the  body,  the 
universe  before  its  Creator,  lose  the  conception  of  unity  entirely,  and 
with  it  the  idea  of  a  living  personal  God;  and  these  are  the  founders 
of  the  ignoble  edifice  of  atheism.  All-God  is  the  God  of  the  one  ; 
no-God  is  the  God  of  the  other. 

Failing  to  apprehend  the  unity  of  God,  it  is  no  great  matter  for 
marvel  that  the  second  school  of  sciolists  misconceive  the  substantial 
unity  of  His  Church  ;  and  so  far  from  regarding  her  as  one,  treat 
her  as  an  aggregation  of  individuals,  in  her  nature  and  constitution, 
void  of  any  congenital  principle  of  cohesion  and  unification.  Every 
spirit  that  dissolveth  the  Church,  dissolveth  Jesus,  and  is  not  from 
God,  but  Antichrist. 

The  Church  of  God  is  not  a  mere  aggregation  of  individuals 
bound  together  by  the  sole  considerations  of  brotherhood,  or  by 
pursuit  of  kindred  aims  and  purposes,  or  by  similarity  of  sentiment, 
taste,  and  feeling.  These  prevail  in  some  degree,  but  they  are  conse- 
quent and  secondary.  The  Church  of  Christ  is  before  all  else,  a 
living,  acting  organism,  of  which  the  members  are  the  body,  Christ 
Jesus  the  head,  and  grace  the  generative  principle  of  life.  Her 
source  of  life  is  in  her  own  centre,  and  all  spiritual  life  springs  from 
the  Holy  Spirit  energizing  and  fecundating  the  vitality  of  the  Church, . 
as  the  God-appointed  channel  of  all  grace  and  truth.  Upon  this 
irrefragable  fact  is  founded  the  force  of  St.  Cyprian's  axiom,  that 
he  cannot  have  God  for  his  father  who  has  not  th*e  Church  for  his 
mother.  God's  first  creation  was  the  material  world  by  nature;  His 
second  creation  is  the  Church  in  the  order  of  grace. 

The  Church  is,  therefore,  prior  to  all  her  children;  they  are  from 
her,  not  she  from  them ;  they  live  in  her,  not  she  in  them ;  and  she 
is  the  fount  of  spiritual  life  unto  all  begotten  of  her  through  the 
Holy  Ghost.  She  calls  them  unto  life;  she  nourishes  them  at  her 
own  bosom;  she  feeds  them  with  the  bread  of  life,  and  the  milk  of 
God's  children;  and  she  conducts  them,  when  they  have  attained 
the  full  stature  of  the  manhood  of  Christ,  to  the  mansions  of  im- 
mortality. Why  expand  this  thought  ?  To  point  the  fallacy  of  those 
who  hold  that  the  Church  is  composed  of  many  congregations  which 


435 

may  come  and  go,  change  and  alter,  divide  and  separate,  deteriorate 
and  reform  without  lesion  to  religion  and  suicide  to  the  Church.  The 
Church  is  simply  the  extension  of  Christ's  Incarnation  to  every 
living  creature,  as  the  Incarnation  in  itself  was  the  alliance  of  the 
Godhead  with  our  common  humanity.  Christ  came  from  Mary; 
the  Church  came  from  Christ,  and  regenerated  humanity  is  born  of 
the  Church  of  God  by  the  divine  action  of  the  Holy  Ghost  in  the 
sacraments,  or  the  channels  of  salvation.  Separation  from  the 
Church  is  consequently  fatal  to  all  spiritual  life;  heresy  is  religious 
suicide,  and  he  who  divides  the  Church,  or  denies  her  doctrines, 
dwells  in  spiritual  death.  The  Church  is  the  Spouse  of  Christ,  and 
the  fruitful  mother  of  all  the  faithful. 

As  Christ  loves  the  Church,  so  does  the  Church  love  her  children. 
From  the  cradle  to  the  grave,  from  morning's  rosy  manhood  till  the  pale 
starlight  of  declining  days  is  quenched  within  the  tomb,  she  guides, 
she  guards,  she  governs,  that  she  may  give  them  in  unsuUied  in- 
tegrity back  unto  their  God.  The  prayer  of  Christ  is  the  prayer  of 
the  Church  :  "  Holy  Father,  keep  them  in  Thy  Name." 

I  have  seen  a  mother  watching  the  slumbers  of  her  infant  off- 
spring. The  dying  cadence  of  that  murmured  song;  the  breathless 
stillness  which  succeeds  the  music  ;  the  gaze,  now  fixed  in  fondness 
on  the  child,  now  turned  to  heaven  imploring  future  blessings  on  its 
head,  express  to  every  feeling  heart  the  intenseness  of  maternal  love. 
I  have  seen  a  mother  hovering  around  the  couch  of  her  sick  child. 
That  instinct  of  affection,  that  enduring  tenderness  and  patient  love 
may  vie  with  that  inspired  charity  whose  divinest  character  is  that 
it  suffereth  long  and  is  kind.  That  anxious,  that  troubled,  yet 
watchful  eye,  who  that  has  beheld  it  can  forget  ?  I  have  seen  the 
gladness  of  a  mother's  joy.  It  beamed  in  smiles  on  her  reviving  off- 
spring, like  the  cheerful  light  of  day  upon  exultant  Nature.  I  have 
seen  the  anguish  of  a  mother's  grief.  That  self-centred  look,  that 
wild  and  wandering  gaze,  that  wintry  smile  of  one  who  sat  like 
Rachel  weeping  for  her  child  and  would  not  be  comforted,  because 
it  was  no  more. 

But  as  the  love  of  Christ  transcends  aU  human  love,  so  does  the 
love  of  Mother  Church  surpass  the  love  of  all  the  mothers  of  man- 
kind. Learn  to  love  her,  for  the  love  of  her  is  the  love  of  Jesus 
Christ. 


436 

Love  is  the  seed  of  grace ;  grace  is  the  seed  of  glory.  Now  is  the 
time  of  the  seed;  the  harvest  day  shall  be  soon;  and  when  the  reap- 
ers are  done,  the  golden  sheaves  shall  be  all  gathered  in;  and  all  the 
lovers  of  Jesus,  and  the  lovers  of  Mary,  and  the  lovers  of  Christ's 
Spouse,  shall  rest  forever  in  that  far-away  land,  in  the  realm  of  the 
King  in  His  beauty.  And  every  true  lover  shall  bask  in  the  bhss 
that  maketh  bright  joy  for  the  Angels;  and  shall  pillow  his  head  in 
the  peace  which  sheddeth  sunshine  on  the  Saints,  and  shall  drink  of 
the  wine  of  the  new  life,  and  taste  of  the  honey  made  by  the  God- 
hand;  and  shall  sing  the  songs  that  awake  the  sweet  melody  of  Zion's 
land;  and  shall  repose  on  the  bosom  of  Jesus,  and  feel  the  breath  of 
His  cheek  and  the  thrilling  touch  of  his  welcome  kiss,  and  shall 
"  stand  by  the  side  of  the  Good  Shepherd,  and  hear  the  soft  call  of 
His  voice  on  that  day  when  the  flock  shall  be  told  for  the  last  time, 
and  the  number  made  full  for  eternity." 

Now  as  love  is  the  seed  of  grace,  so  love  is  the  law  of  life;  for 
love  is  life,  and  life  is  love;  but  love  and  life  both  proceed  from 
unity.  We  live,  and  move,  and  have  our  being  in  God;  for  God  is 
life,  and  God  is  love,  and  God  is  unity.  The  world  at  creation's 
dawn  drew  its  being  from  unity,  the  creative  act  of  unity;  unity  is 
its  final  cause,  its  term  and  destination;  as  the  rays  of  light  out- 
spreading from  the  sun,  and  refining  the  vapors  of  the  air,  ascend 
through  the  ethereal  element  to  seek  repose  in  the  bosom  of  the 
luminary  that  gave  them  birth. 

The  essence  of  the  Christian  life  is  charity,  for  charity  is  the 
golden  bond  of  union.  Love  is  union;  hatred  is  death.  When  the 
unfettered  mind  shall  soar  beyond  the  starry  pavements  of  paradise, 
faith  shall  be  dissolved  in  vision;  when  hope  shall  have  attained  its 
object,  it  shall  expire  in  the  arms  of  joy;  but  charity  shall  flame  for- 
ever, shooting  in  the  white  light  of  heaven  from  the  unclouded  splen- 
dor of  the  Lamb,  for  charity  is  God. 

By  the  natural  order  of  God's  providence,  it  is  decreed  that  union 
with  the  Church  shall  be  the  indispensable  condition,  as  it  is  the 
fountain  spring  of  grace  and  spiritual  life,  for  the  Church  of  God  is 
one, — she  is  the  living  link  of  unity.  She  is  one,  as  if  she  belonged 
to  one  clime  or  country,  and  not  many;  as  if  she  dwelt  in  one  house, 
worshipped  at  one  shrine;  as  if  she  spoke  with  one  mouth,  and  pos- 
sessed one  heart,  one  soul,  one  mind,  one  head,  the   Lord    Christ 


437 

Jesus.  And  that  unity  we  shall  in  vain  pursue  outside  her  conse- 
crated pale.  Where  in  this  wide  world,  where  under  the  shining 
sun  of  God,  shall  the  eye  of  man  behold  it  but  in  the  bosom  of 
Christ's  Spouse  ? 

Consider  them  all;  in  fancy's  magic  mirror  behold  all  the  schools 
of  philosophies  that  flourished  since  time  began  to  flow;  review  all 
the  sects,  the  schisms,  and  conventicles  that  ever  wore  the  garb  of 
God's  religion,  and  let  reason  make  reply,  to  which  of  them  all  be- 
longs the  illustrious,  heavenly  title — ^Unity.  History,  reason,  revela- 
tion, the  voice  of  ages  and  the  voice  of  God,  reply  in  tones  of  thun- 
der— To  the  Catholic  Church  of  Jesus  Christ.  Her  vast  and  impos- 
ing structure,  planted  on  the  God-founded  rock  of  Peter,  touching 
the  four  comers  of  the  globe,  facing  the  rising  and  the  setting  sun, 
and  looking  to  the  North  and  to  the  South,  to  the  East  and  to  the 
West,  rises  in  majestic  proportion  and  imperial  beauty,  and  her 
Apostolic  dome,  rearing  its  head  to  the  stars  of  God,  joins  her  multi- 
tudinous parts  together  in  a  firm  and  indissoluble  union;  and  like  a 
city  seated  on  a  mountain,  she  reveals  herself  to  the  eyes  of  all  man- 
kind as  the  one  true  Church  of  the  eternal  God. 

She  is  the  ladder  of  Jacob,  reaching  from  the  surface  of  the  eai-th 
even  to  the  highest  heavens,  Jesus  Christ  Himself  leaning  on  the 
top,  and  the  angel  ministers  of  grace  ascending  and  descending  with 
vials  of  peace  and  mercy  to  mankind.  And  this  glorious  counter- 
sign no  other  association  may  dare  to  claim,  for  it  is  the  signet  of 
the  Saviour.  No  work  of  human  policy  can  wear  the  badge  of  the 
brotherhood  of  Christ.  And  never  shall  she  surrender  that  royal 
standard  of  the  cross.  As  an  ensign  she  will  unfurl  it  in  every 
breeze  that  blows;  she  will  let  it  float  from  Peter's  pilot-house  for- 
ever, and  as  its  divine  folds  spread  out  over  every  land  and  every  sea, 
to  the  admiration  of  her  friends  and  the  consternation  of  her  ene- 
mies, she  will  point  to  the  indestructible  foundation  of  ancient  faith, 
consolidated  by  the  inseparable  bonds  of  fraternal  and  charitable 
union,  whereon  she  rests,  and  exclaim  to  the  whole  world  and  all 
that  dwell  therein,  "  Undivided  and  indivisible,  indefectible  and  im- 
perishable, peerless  and  alone, — I,  like  God,  am  one !  " 

The  Church  is  a  living  organism,  invisible  in  her  principle  of  life, 
but  visible  in  her  external  organization,  in  her  outward  body.  Plants 
grow,  but  their  vital  principle  is  unseen  by  human  eyes.     Man  lives. 


438 

but  sees  not  his  soul.  The  Church  lives,  but  the  vital  germ  that  op- 
erates throughout  the  organism  is  not  visible  to  the  scrutiny  of  the 
senses,  for  she  lives  by  the  life  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  who  abides  with 
her  forever.  But  as  she  is  endowed  with  an  interior,  so  is  she  with 
an  exterior,  or  visible  unity.  She  has,  consequently,  one  centre  of 
authority,  one  visible  Ruler,  one  Supreme  Head.  Unity  is  vital  and 
necessary  to  the  Church,  and  the  visible  Ruler  is  necessary  to  unity. 
Peter  is  the  successor  of  Christ,  the  primal  fount  of  unity.  The  Pope 
is  the  successor  of  Peter,  the  Supreme  Head  of  the  Church  and  the 
Father  of  all  the  faithful.  Peter  holds  from  Christ;  the  Pope  holds 
from  Peter,  and  all  the  faithful,  priests,  bishops,  are  in  communion 
with  the  Church  and  with  Christ  through  the  Pope.  Ubi  Fetrus,  ibi 
EccUsia.  Where  is  Peter,  there  is  the  Church.  No  Pope,  no  Church; 
no  Church,  no  Christ;  no  Christ,  no  salvation. 

This  doctrine  does  not  exclude  from  salvation  those  who, 
through  no  fault  of  their  own,  are  outside  the  external  or  visible 
communion  of  the  Church.  In  virtue  of  good  faith,  they  are  at- 
tached to  the  soul  of  the  Church,  and  thus  within  the  reach  of  God's 
redeeming  grace.     No  man  is  condemned,  guiltless  before  God. 

From  the  time  of  the  Reformation  down  to  our  own,  it  has  been 
the  aim  and  spirit  of  the  secular  arm  to  overturn  the  Pope's  su- 
premacy, and  pull  down  the  Papal  constitution  of  the  Church.  But 
"  in  vain  doth  the  heathen  rage  and  imagine  vain  things.  He  that 
dwelleth  in  the  highest  heavens  shall  laugh  at  their  empty  schemes, 
and  turn  their  councils  to  their  own  confusion,  for  it  is  written:  Be- 
hold, the  Lion  of  the  fold  of  Judah  hath  conquered,  with  a  strong 
bite  he  hath  broken  th^  iron  bars  of  the  gates  of  hell  and  trampled 
death  to  destruction."  Still  they  decry  the  arrogance  of  the  Roman 
court  under  the  insane  delusion  that  it  seeks  to  demolish  the  secular 
authority.  It  is  the  story  of  the  age-long  strife.  It  is  renewed  with 
increased  vigor  in  these  latter  days.  It  is  the  House  of  Humbert 
against  the  Patrimony  of  Peter.  The  Quirinal  is  overshadowed  by 
the  vault  of  the  Vatican.  4 

Tear  down  the  tiara  and  every  civil  crown  will  crumble  to  dust  ; 
crush  out  the  Pope  if  you  can  and  every  republic  will  perish. 

We  seek  not  to  defend  upon  all  sides  the  conduct  of  every  Pope 
that  sat  in  the  chair  of  Christ,  and  we  dare  not  deny  in  the  teeth  of 
history  that  some  sought  to  handle  the  sword  of  Paul,  no  less  than 


439 

the  keys  of  Peter.  But  exceptions  give  force  to  tlie  rule ;  and  take 
them  all  in  all,  from  Peter  to  Leo,  they  stand  forth  in  the  great 
temple  of  time,  matchless  and  unique,  mighty  men  of  God— leaders 
and  lovers  of  the  whole  human  race,  the  salt  of  the  earth,  and  the 
light  of  the  world. 

Granted,  then,  that  ambition  on  the  side  of  churchmen  contrib- 
uted to  turn  the  tide;  granted,  that  human  passions  poured  forth 
iheir  volcanic  fires  to  cloud  the  bright  sky  of  religion;  grant  aU  that 
is  claimed,  the  fact  is  not  to  be  falsified  that  the  Reformation  was 
bom  of  ignorance,  suckled  in  sin,  and  fostered  in  the  lap  of  red- 
handed  rebellion  against  the  rightful  authority  of  Eome. 

The  Church,  therefore,  is  now,  as  she  has  been  from  the  days  of 
Christ,  the  unalterable  foe  of  ignorance,  and  the  unwearied  advocate 
of  education.  She'  loves  the  Hght,  because  she  is  from  above,  de- 
scending, like  God's  morning  star,  from  the  eternal  light  that  shines 
in  the  bosom  of  the  Godhead. 

Man  is  not  bom  a  man,  but  he  comes  forth  a  child,  and  while  he 
remains  in  childhood  we  treat  him  as  a  child.  As  it  is  with  the 
stages  of  man,  so  it  is  with  the  courses  of  civilization.  The  Church 
must  work  upon  the  world  as  she  finds  it.  She  would  make  it 
.better,  brighter,  holier,  and  more  happy;  but  if  her  efforts  art  to  be 
stamped  with  success  she  is  compelled  to  conquer  it  according  as  it 
comes.  And  she  makes  herself  all  to  all,  to  gain  all  to  Christ.  AU 
despotic  and  absolute  governments  look  with  suspicion  on  the  ad- 
vancement of  the  people,  and  are  jealous  to  distraction  of  liberty 
and  education.  Tyrants  tremble  before  the  tribunal  of  truth;  des- 
pots shrink  at  the  sound  of  Hberty;  oppressors  cringe  in  the  blazing 
light  of  the  watch-fires  of  intelligence. 

It  is  sweet  to  rest  under  the  crook  of  the  Church,  for  the  govern- 
ment of  the  Church  is  the  government  of  God,  stooping  down  to  lift 
up  the  lowly,  to  lead  on  the  blind,  to  rescue  the  strayed,  the  fallen, 
and  the  lost.  The  Church  tells  her  children  to  beware  of  the  world, 
and  yet,  as  Christ  with  His  Apostles,  she  would  not  take  them  out  of 
the  world,  but  get  them  to  live  worthily  therein.  Since  she  came 
forth  from  the  silence  of  the  catacombs  to  plant  the  cross  upon  the 
capitol  of  the  Csesars,  her  children  have  never  been  more  in  contact 
with  the  secular  side  of  life,  and  never  more  exposed  to  the  wither- 
ing influence  of  infidelity  and  irreligion.     The  proper  education  of 


440 

her  children  must  now  be  the  paramount  purpose  of  her  existence, 
not  even  secondary  to  saving  souls,  for  the  one  of  necessity  implies 
the  other.  The  tendency  of  the  present  time  runs  towards  insub- 
ordination, under  the  false  name  of  independence.  The  principle  of 
private  judgment  in  the  domain  of  dogma  has  shaken  the  founda- 
tions of  authority.  Men  to-day,  more  than  ever,  are  imbued  with 
the  critical  spirit,  and  wish  to  subject  all  things,  even  divine  truth, 
to  the  measure  of  a  shallow  understanding.  Too  proud  to  submit  to 
the  simplicity  of  the  Gospel;  too  puffed  up  with  the  empty  conceits 
of  a  false  philosophy,  and  too  skilled  in  the  sophistries  of  an  arro- 
gant and  self-sufficient  science,  they  are  not  to  be  allured  to  religion 
by  the  simple  announcement  of  precepts  and  mysteries  beyond  the 
finite  ken,  but  must  be  reasoned  into  the  knowledge  of  religion. 
They  must  be  taught  to  unlearn  the  false,  and  then  to  learn  the  true. 
The  simplicity  of  belief  in  the  truths  of  religion,  as  it  existed  in 
former  ages,  will  no  longer  do  ;  the  knowledge  of  understanding 
must  be  conjoined.  This  is  as  it  should  be,  for,  as  St.  Anselm  ob- 
serves: "  We  should  be  guilty  of  criminal  negligence  if,  after  having 
believed,  we  did  not  seek  to  know  the  reason  of  our  believing.  Now- 
adays it  is  difficult  for  the  teachers  of  truth  to  command  obedience 
and  respect,  unless  they  are  well  furnished  with  proper  weapons 
from  the  arsenal  of  reason  and  the  armories  of  science  and  philos- 
ophy. '  Now,  if  ever  in  the  history  of  man,  his  reason  is  active, 
aggressive,  and  alert;  and  now,  if  ever,  men  feel  the  force  of  Augus- 
tine's axiom  that  we  cannot  believe,  unless  we  believe  rationally.  It 
is  a  healthy  tendency.  Religion  presupposes  man  to  be  a  rational 
creature,  for  revelation  rests  on  reason,  and  the  Church  always 
flourishes  with  most  vigor  in  an  atmosphere  of  light  and  intelligence. 
A  secular  newspaper  recently  expressed  its  astonishment  at  the 
freedom  of  discussion  allowed  in  the  Church,  as  evidenced  in  some 
late  unhappy  controversies.  What  folly ! — as  if  Catholics  held  their 
faith  by  closing  their  eyes,  and  shutting  out  science  and  learning. 
The  Popes  were  always  the  patrons  of  science  and  literature,  twin 
flowers  of  Christian  civilization.  Theology  shines  best  by  the  light 
of  history;  science  is  the  handmaid  of  sanctity;  knowledge  is  the 
fulcrum  of  religion. 

The  Church,  therefore,  in  the  present  as  in  the  past,  holds,  as  a 
paramount  necessity,  that  all  her  children  should  be  instructed  to 


441 

the  highest  limit  of  their  capacity,  and,  more  especially,  in  all  that 
pertains  to  the  groundwork  of  faith — that  faith  which  is  the  science 
of  salvation.  She  demands  from  them  the  docility  of  children,  but 
she  desires  to  develop  in  them  the  ripeness  of  understanding  that 
reflects  the  minds  of  men.  Only  by  the  unifying  process  of  educa- 
tion can  she  mould  her  multitudinous  members,  composed  as  they 
are  of  so  many  nationalities,  with  such  multiform  tendencies,  preju- 
dices, antipathies,  and  temperaments,  into  one,  that  they  may  be 
one  in  her,  as  she  is  one  in  Christ,  and  as  Christ  is  one  in  the 
heavenly  Father. 

But  where  shall  all  these  investigations  and  inquiries  end  ?  Are 
there  no  limits  to  the  boundless  excursions  of  the  reasoning  faculty 
of  man  ?  Are  men  to  reason  themselves  out  of  religion,  like  Anax- 
agoras  of  old,  who  said  :  "  As  to  the  gods,  I  know  not  if  they  exist "  ? 
Have  we  fallen  upon  evil  times  ?  God  forfend !  I,  for  one,  have  a 
better  opinion  of  my  time  and  country.  I  would  fain  believe  that 
religion  must  daily  strengthen  its  hold  upon  the  mind,  and  the 
better  faith  is  understood,  the  more  will  its  teachings  be  respected 
and  observed.  Knowledge  is  the  foundation  of  love.  The  Catholic 
Church  has  never  commanded  more  respect  throughout  the  world 
than  to-day,  and  never  have  the  prerogatives  and  the  influence  of 
the  Sovereign  Pontiff  been  more  appreciated  than  at  this  present 
hour,  when  temporal  princes  are  invoking  his  mediation  in  inter- 
national disputes,  though  it  seems  not  without  a  color  of  probability 
that  the  august  head  of  the  Church  may  be  an  exile  from  the  prov- 
idential see  of  Rome,  or  that  the  venerable  Pontiff's  chains  may  soon 
be  clanking  in  the  halls  of  the  Vatican. 

But  to  place  her  hand  upon  the  coveted  prize  of  ascendency,  the 
Church  must  adapt  herself  to  the  exigencies  of  the  times,  and  must, 
in  her  external  economy,  so  direct  her  course  as  to  mould  the  mate- 
rials, which  she  meets  in  her  progressive  march,  into  her  own  image 
and  likeness.  What,  then,  do  I  say  ?  Is  this  novelty  of  doctrine  ? 
Nay,  not  so.  The  Church  is  unchangeable  in  herself,  in  her  doc- 
trines, and  in  her  truth;  for  truth  is  one,  truth  is  God,  and  is  the 
same  yesterday,  to-day,  and  forever.  "  There  is,"  it  has  been  well 
said,  "a  progression  not  in  religion,  but  hy  religion."  But  the 
Church  has*  to  fashion  the  civil,  social,  and  political  orders  according 
to  her  mind  and  sfenius.     The  secular  spirit,  and  the  secular  order. 


442 

lias  always  been  at  war  with  the  supernatural  constitution  of  the 
Church,     More  or  less,  it  shall  be  ever  thus. 

Men  forget  this,  who  cherish  halcyon  views  of  accommodations 
and  modi  vivendi  in  which  all  friction  and  antagonism  must  forever 
cease.  Men  forget  this,  who  think  the  Church  must  not  form  the 
world,  but  be  formed  by  the  world.  New  prophets  have  arisen  to 
tell  us  that  the  old  order  is  passing  away,  and  that  we  are  to  face  a 
new  society,  in  which  the  unity  of  Christianity  shall  be  broken  into 
a  thousand  fragments  by  national  divisions  and  national  churches. 
They  affirm  that  the  Church  must  reconcile  itself  with  American 
progress,  and  never  dream  that  American  progress  must  reconcile 
itself  with  the  Church,  and  that  it  is  as  absurd  to  speak  of  Ameri- 
canizing the  Church  as  of  Germanizing  it.  They  would  circum- 
scribe what  God  has  made  universal.  But  the  cry  of  Americanism 
is  as  fallacious  and  heretical  as  the  cry  of  Gallicanism,  which  the 
universality  of  Christ's  Gospel  cast  out  from  the  beginning,  as  na- 
tionalism foreign  to  the  breadth  and  comprehensiveness  of  Christ's  all- 
redeeming  love.  We  can  no  more  Americanize  the  Church  than  we 
can  denationalize  America.  The  Church  knows  no  Jew,  no  Latin, 
no  Teuton,  no  Greek,  no  American,  no  Saxon,  for  the  elevation  of 
all  national  types  to  the  higher  and  uniform  type  in  Christ  Jesus, 
means  the  effacement  of  all  national  divisions  in  the  religion  founded 
by  the  Son  of  God,  whose  kingdom  was  not  of  this  world.  Some 
look  upon  the  Church  as  a  vast  organization  composed  of  many  na- 
tionalities, held  together,  like  the  great  empires  of  the  world,  formed 
of  many  kingdoms,  by  checks  and  balances,  powers  and  forces,  in 
which  nations  shall  play  their  several  parts.  But  no  matter  what  the 
government  the  Catholic  lives  under,  he  regards  not  the  civil  author- 
ity as  the  basis  of  his  Catholicity,  but  holds  his  Catholicity  as  the 
basis  of  his  citizenship.  All  Catholics  have  the  same  motives  for 
civil  allegiance  and  respect  for  civil  authority;  all  have  the  same 
rule  of  conscience;  all  have  the  same  example  and  command  of  a 
divine  Kedeemer  to  obey  the  rulers  who  have  been  set  over  them, 
duly  invested  with  authority.  But,  because  we  are  Catholics,  we 
are  none  the  less  Americans,  and  the  Catholic  Church  may  in- 
deed rejoice  that,  as  she  has  probably  never  found  a  civil  order  in 
which  the  natural  rights  of  man  are  more  respected,*  so  she  has 
never  found  one  more  concordant  with  her  own  constitution  and 


443 

more  apposite  to  her  mission  of  saving  souls  than  that  which  she  has 
found  in  that  glorious  republic  whose  flag  waves  over  the  heads  of 
free  and  unfettered  men.  From  the  day  that  she  came  forth,  armed 
of  God,  she  has  had  to  confront  institutions  inimical  to  her  mission, 
and  governments  at  variance  with  the  purpose  of  her  existence  upon 
earth. 

The  Pharisees  destroyed  the  spirit  of  the  Mosaic  economy  and 
strangely  perverted  the  law;  the  Sadducees  denied  the  doctrine  of 
future  immortality,  and  in  conduct  and  belief  they  resembled  the 
Epicurean  herd,  whose  only  thought  was,  "Let  us  eat  and  drink." 
They  dreamed  that  a  Messiah  was  to  come  as  a  temporal  deliverer 
to  subvert  the  odious  supremacy  of  Rome,  and  on  the  ruins  of  the 
empire  to  establish  a  throne,  to  exalt  the  nation  to  such  a  height  of 
glory  and  dominion  as  David  and  Solomon  had  never  seen  in  the 
ecstasies  of  prophetic  vision.  National  pride,  aspirations  of  ambi- 
tion, tenacity  of  ancient  tradition,  so  tragically  exemplified  in  the 
blood,  famine,  pestilence,  crumbling  walls  and  sinking  ruins  of  the 
consecrated  temple  of  Jerusalem,  all  made  stubborn  resistance  to  the 
reign  of  the  new  religion.  Nor  were  obstacles  of  less  consequence 
to  be  surmounted  in  Republican  Rome.  The  religion  of  paganism 
everywhere  prevailed.  No  war  was  proclaimed  without  the  sanction 
of  auguries  and  the  solemnities  of  sacrifice;  the  sacred  fire  bui-ned 
on  the  altar  of  Vesta;  the  mystic  ancile  was  still  regarded  as. the 
palladium  of  Rome ;  and  the  sybiUine  books  were  consulted  as  the 
oracles  of  truth.  Household  gods  presided  over  the  domestic  hearth, 
and  Pontiff  and  Flamen  were  men  of  venerable  years  and  powerful 
influence.  Poetry  had  besides  covered  the  naked  deformity  of  a 
fabulous  mythology  with  her  glittering  mantle;  and  painting,  her 
sister  art,  had  adorned  the  temples  of  the  gods  with  the  embodied 
ideas  of  divinity  and  beauty;  tradition  had  handed  down  the  ancient 
belief  through  long  lines  of  ancestors  for  700  years,  virtuous  and  re- 
nowned; and  certainly  the  rehgion  of  the  ancient  Romans  was  well 
calculated  to  overpower  the  imagination,  to  conciliate  the  passions, 
and  to  blind  the  eyes  of  the  understanding  to  the  holy  light  of  truth. 
Gods,  moreover,  were  founders  of  the  cities;  Terminus  marked  the 
boundaries;  the  land  was  the  property  of  the  patricians;  social  des- 
potism prevailed;  man  was  a  cipher,  for  State  absolutism  held  un- 
disputed ground  in  the  ancient  Graeco-Roman  civilization. 


444 

When  the  Apostles  were  summoned  before  the  Sanhedrim  to 
answer  for  proclaiming  salvation  in  Christ,  one  of  the  wise  men 
in  the  conclave  made  this  memorable  utterance  to  his  country- 
men: "  Ye  men  of  Israel,  take  heed  what  you  intend  to  do  as  touch- 
ing these  men;  for  if  their  counsel  be  the  work  of  men  it  will 
come  to  naught;  but  if  it  be  of  God,  ye  cannot  overthrow  it." 
Had  Gamaliel,  the  preceptor  of  St.  Paul,  who  remitted  to  the 
decision  of  time  the  question  of  the  divine  origin  of  Christianity,  but 
lived  for  30  years  longer,  he  would  have  seen  it  promulgated,  not 
only  through  India  and  Greece  and  Asia  Minor;  not  only  in  the 
imperial  city,  and  the  household  of  great  Csesar,  but  in  climes  where 
the  Roman  eagle  never  spread  his  pinions,  and  where  the  Macedo- 
nian lion  never  roared  or  left  the  traces  of  his  footsteps.  Had  he 
seen  the  last  days  of  the  last  Apostle  he  would  have  seen  the  Jewish 
worship  banished  from  the  ancient  temple  and  a  Christian  church 
on  Mt.  Zion  within  sight  of  the  magnificent  monuments  of  nature 
which  had  witnessed  the  death  and  ignominy  of  its  divine  founder. 
He  had  seen  the  vast  majority  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  Roman 
world,  in  spite  of  popular  hostility  and  governmental  policy,  reduced 
to  the  obedience  of  a  religion  that  received  into  its  bosom  the  im- 
perial acolyte,  grasping  in  its  unarmed  hand  the  sceptre  of  dominion, 
and  setting  its  sandalled  foot  upon  the  war-surrounded  throne  of  the 
Csesars.     Thus  did  Rome  rest  in  the  embrace  of  Jesus  Christ. 

The  civil  history  of  Rome  is  a  dazzling  record  of  events,  the  most 
stupendous  and  brilliant  actions,  together  with  an  exertion  of  enter- 
prise and  power  limited  only  by  the  impotence  of  nature,  and  the 
contracted  boundaries  of  the  worlds  of  discovery.  Of  all  this  political 
grandeur  nearly  every  vestige  is  blotted  out;  a  few  faint  memorials 
are  all  that  remain.  Her  vast  empire  is  apportioned  among  her 
former  vassals;  her  provinces  are  the  kingdoms  of  barbarian  princes; 
the  forum  that  rang  with  the  highest  efforts  of  human  eloquence  is  a 
deserted  common;  the  palaces  of  the  Caesars  are  but  a  pile  of  rubbish; 
the  eternal  city  survives  chiefly  in  its  ruins;  so  that  Pius  Antoninus 
might  take  his  stand  on  the  capital  of  Trajan's  column,  and  like 
Caius  Marius  on  the  ruins  of  Carthage,  view  with  saddened  eyes  their 
splendid  desolation. 

The  raving  bacchanal,  the  sensual  devotee  of  Venus,  all  went 
down  to  dust  before  the  splendor  of  the  cross,  because  there  was  to 
be  but  one  fold  of  Christ. 


445 

Cicero,  in  a  wild  burst  of  eloquence,  looked  forward  to  the  day 
when  he  should  join  the  divine  assembly  of  the  spirits  of  the  illus- 
trious and  beloved  who  had  gone  before  him.  The  common  people 
were  invited  hopefully  to  lift  their  vision  to  those  Elysian  fields  so 
rapturously  pictured  by  the  proudest  of  the  poets,  as  a  boui'ne  where 
the  atmosphere  was  purer,  and  the  fields  far  fairer;  where  a  brighter 
sun  and  brighter  stars  illuminated  a  scene  of  perpetual  enjoyment 
and  undisturbed  repose.  Public  opinion,  at  whose  frown  even  viii:ue 
shrinks  and  before  whom  brazen-fronted  vice  flies  dismayed,  vented 
all  the  venom  of  its  voice  against  Christianity  and  affixed  the  stigma 
of  indelible  disgrace  upon  the  act  of  its  profession.  The  father 
dragged  his  own  child  before  the  Praetor  for  cherishing  sentiments 
of  favor  for  the  proscribed  religion;  and,  like  another  Bnitus,  sacri- 
ficed his  life  upon  the  altar  of  paganism's  perjured  priesthood,  for 
the  imaginary  welfare  of  his  country. 

And  yet,  in  an  enlightened  period,  when  the  horizon  of  the 
literary  world  was  still  ablaze  with  the  departing  glories  of  the 
Augustan  era;  when  the  schools  of  pagan  philosophy  were  more 
patronized  than  ever;  when  the  cultivation  of  the  aii:s  and  the  study 
of  the  sciences  were  so  widely  prevalent  in  Egypt,  Greece,  and 
Italy,  twelve  fishermen,  members  of  an  ignorant  and  despised  com- 
munity, who  had  never  frequented  the  groves  of  Academus,  nor 
trodden  the  gardens  of  the  Lyceum;  twelve  men  robed  in  pilgrims' 
weeds,  and  armed  with  pilgrims'  staffs,  came  to  preach  at  Athens 
and  Rome  a  strange  doctrine  of  severity;  and  in  the  face  of  long- 
seated  prejudice  of  opinion;  in  the  face  of  reproach  and  calumny; 
in  the  face  of  absolute  exposure  to  contempt,  infamy,  and  death,  to 
set  up  the  hated  standard  of  a  new  and  unpopular  religion.  When 
Socrates,  though  aided  by  his  Daemon,  could  throw  no  light  on  the 
destiny  of  man;  when  Plato  could  conceive  no  definite  idea  of 
divinity;  when  Aristotle,  Zeno,  and  all  the  sects  were  lost  in  a 
labyrinth,  without  a  clue,  and  without  a  sign,  these  unlettered 
vagrants  stood  forth  undismayed  and  unwearied,  as  the  chosen 
vessels  of  divine  illumination,  "  to  justify  the  ways  of  God  to  man," 
to  unfold  the  schemes  of  divine  Providence,  the  unsearchable  mys- 
teries of  the  Omnipotent,  and  the  resplendent  glories  of  God's  re- 
deeming love. 

What  power  but  that  which  called  the  stars  together,  when  they 


446 

obeyed  with  trembling,  saying,  Lo !  here  we  are ;  which  to  the  sea 
hath  said,  "  Thus  far  shalt  thou  go  and  no  farther,"  and  it  broke  its 
sweUing  waves  upon  the  shore ;  which  fixed  the  sun  in  the  firma- 
ment of  heaven,  and  poured  its  flood  of  radiance  upon  the  yet  un- 
peopled regions  of  the  earth;  what  power,  in  fine,  but  the  power  of 
the  Most  High  God,  could,  by  mere  force  of  persuasion,  establish  a 
religion  which,  after  the  lapse  of  1,900  years,  still  remains  the  com- 
fort of  the  ignorant  and  the  delight  of  the  learned;  the  consolation 
of  the  sorrowing  and  the  joy  of  the  fortunate;  which  has  survived 
the  attacks  of  its  enemies  and  the  defection  of  its  friends,  through 
periods  of  alternate  luxury  and  barbarism,  through  changes  and 
revolutions,  through  the  decay  of  dynasties  and  the  fall  of  empires, 
itself  alone  unshaken  and  untouched;  through  the  discoveries  of 
science,  and  the  improvements  of  the  arts,  and  the  vagaries  of  the 
human  mind — itself  alone  incapable  of  change,  alteration,  or  im- 
provement. 

Is  not  this  renovation  of  the  face  of  the  earth;  this  restoration  of 
the  moral  and  intellectual  world;  this  resuscitation  from  the  death 
of  pagan  ignorance  to  the  life  of  Christian  liberty,  light,  and  love,  as 
sublime  a  revelation  of  power  as  that  which  was  seen  when  the 
Saviour  stood  by  the  sepulchre  at  Bethany  and  Lazarus  came  forth 
at  His  call  from  the  gloomy  cerements  of  the  grave  ? 

Not  in  the  ebullition  of  an  insane  enthusiasm,  like  Mahomet,  rush- 
ing forth  with  impetuous  force  and  overpowering  might  from  his 
native  peninsula,  offering  to  the  conquered  idolater  no  terms  but 
Mohammedanism  or  death,  and  to  the  captive  Christian,  no  option 
but  the  Koran  or  the  sword;  not  murdering  recusants  with  iron- 
heeled  atrocity,  razing  cities  to  foundations,  and  ravaging  countries 
with  fire  and  sword,  till  not  a  blade  of  grass  grew,  and  the  hillocks 
no  longer  smiled  with  the  beauty  of  the  vine,  and  the  fields  no 
longer  curled  with  the  ears  of  corn;  no;  but  by  the  power  of  the 
Holy  Cross  of  Jesus  Christ;  by  the  aid  of  the  omnipotent  arm  of  God; 
by  the  tears,  by  the  sighs,  and  by  the  sweat  of  a  suffering  Saviour;  by 
the  grace  out-gushing  in  plenteous  streams  from  the  side  of  a  cru- 
cified Redeemer,  and  fertilizing  the  whole  world  with  the  good  seed 
of  the  Gospel,  the  religion  of  Christ  was  destined  to  triumph  over 
paganism  and  idolatry,  and  like  a  beautiful  vine,  to  stretch  its  ten- 
drils to  the  remotest  comers  of  the  earth,  that  there  might  be  one 


447 

« 

sheepfold  and  one  Shepherd  who  laid  down  His  life  that  every 
valley  might  be  filled,  the  crooked  ways  made  straight,  and  the  rough 
ways  plain,  and  all  flesh  might  see  the  salvation  of  God. 

But  if  state  supremacy  in  Rome  was  hostile  to  the  Church,  the  in- 
dividualism of  barbarism  was  a  still  more  insuperable  barrier  to  the 
march  of  her  heavenly  progress.  Here  were  turbulent  passions  to 
subdue,  an  exaggerated  notion  of  personal  liberty  to  counteract,  a 
haughty  and  imperious  aristocracy  to  temper  and  tone  down,  and  a 
degraded  peasantry  to  elevate  to  the  Christian  conception  of  true 
manhood.  The  rapacity  and  arrogance  of  feudal  barons  and  the 
condition  of  a  cringing  clergy  did  not  improve  the  facilities  for  con- 
version. 

Nearly  all  the  modern  civilizations,  as  the  ancient  before  them, 
have  stood  towards  the  CathoHc  Church  in  the  relation  of  opposition. 
Open  or  covert,  hostility  marked  the  attitude  of  the  medieval  civil 
powers,  which,  in  the  current  century,  has  been  translated  into  posi- 
tive aggression  and  defiance.  Both  the  social  and  the  political  stand- 
ards, under  most  civilizations,  have  run  counter  to  the  unity  and 
authority  of  the  Church;  but  under  the  starry  banner  of  the  great- 
est, and  perchance  the  last  great  republic  of  the  world,  the  Catholic 
Church  shall  doubtless  behold  her  mightiest  triumphs  and  most  glo- 
rious conquests  for  the  faith  of  Jesus  Christ.  Here  she  finds  a  social 
condition,  founded  upon  legal  equality  and  natural  right,  upon 
which  she  can  build  unimpeded  the  supernatural  structure  of  re- 
ligion. Here  she  finds  a  political  order,  which,  though  not  in  active 
alliance  with  religion,  places  no  embargo  upon  it,  but  leaves  it  free 
and  untrammelled.  Here  she  finds  a  field  providentially  prepared 
for  her  divine  action  upon  mankind,  favorable  to  her  growth,  and 
congenial  to  her  spirit  and  constitution. 

In  Europe,  at  the  commencement  of  the  seventeenth  centur}',  ab- 
solutism triumphed  everywhere,  and  erected  upon  the  scanty  lib- 
erties of  the  medieval  period  a  temple  of  t}Tanny,  in  which,  although 
the  light  of  hterature  and  the  splendor  shone  with  exceeding  brill- 
iancy, especially  under  the  French  monarchies,  nevertheless  correct 
ideas  of  popular  liberty  were  never  more  confounded  and  contemned. 
But  lo !  even  while  these  priceless  principles  of  natural  right  and  jus- 
tice were  scorned  in  the  continental  countries,  in  England,  France, 
Spain,  and  Italy,  on  the  hither  side  of  the  Atlantic,  amid  the  pri- 


448 

r 
meval  forests  and  the  untrodden  wilds  of  the  New  World,  the  most 
advanced  theories  of  human  right  and  human  freedom  were  pro- 
claimed, defended,  and  accepted,  with  enthusiastic  ardor  by  an  ob- 
scure and  despised  Democracy,  as  the  new  j)ohtical  creed  of  a  people 
destined  by  God  to  transcend  the  bounds  of  more  than  imperial 
power  and  greatness.  Yes;  proclaimed  here  upon  the  ocean-washed 
shores  of  the  New  World,  a  liberty  which  was  not  unrestrained 
license,  or  rampant  individualism;  a  liberty  which  was  not  unfriendly 
to  peace  and  right  and  justice;  a  liberty  which  could  brook  the  re- 
straints of  law  and  was  not  inconsistent  with  authority;  a  liberty,  in 
fine,  whose  end  and  aim  was  unity  and  authority;  a  liberty  for 
just  and  popular  government;  a  moral,  civil,  federal,  constitutional 
liberty,  which  all  would  cheerfully  defend  with  their  "  lives,  their 
fortunes,  and  their  sacred  honor,"  as  the  palladium  of  a  lofty,  gener- 
ous, and  high-minded  people. 

This  liberty  is  the  corner-stone  of  American  civilization,  for  it 
combines  two  principles  which  are  usually  in  conflict  in  most  com- 
monwealths— the  spirit  of  freedom  and  the  spirit  of  religion.  By 
the  founders  of  our  Republic  the  time-consecrated  institutions  of 
the  Old  World  were  put  aside;  the  barriers  of  aristocratic  society 
were  broken  down ;  the  ancient  modes  of  government  were  discarded, 
and  the  laws  and  institutions  of  effete  monarchism  were  relegated  to 
the  background,  and  a  new  order  established,  in  some  essential  re- 
spects dissimilar  to  any  which  had  hitherto  appeared  in  the  world. 
In  the  moral  order  our  great  law-givers  asserted  the  rights  of  con- 
science and  the  claims  of  liberty  as  consistent  with  the  supremacy  of 
the  divine  and  natural  law,  but  in  the  political  order  they  proclaimed 
the  maxim  of  personal  independence,  which  was  at  the  same  time 
jealous  and  tenacious  of  authority. 

Civil  liberty  gives  admirable  scope  to  the  exercise  of  man's  ra- 
tional faculties,  and  the  largest  independence  compatible  with  social 
security  and  order  is  more  favorable  to  rehgion  than  the  most  pow- 
erful despotism  exerted  in  behalf  of  tfte  Church.  The  Church  knows 
that  she  has  nothing  to  hope  for  from  kings  and  emperors,  for  whose 
alliance  she  has  always  paid  a  perilous  price.  She  is,  therefore,  con- 
tented with  the  measure  of  freedom  which  she  enjoys  under  the 
American  commonwealth,  for  she  knows  that  the  empire  of  reUgion 
is  never  more  safeguarded  than  when,  upheld  by  no  other  arm  than 


449 

the  arm  of  God,  it  reigns  with  loving  liberty  in  the  hearts  and  con- 
sciences of  her  children.  The  Church  lives  and  works  by  grace; 
grace  supposes  nature,  and  nature  supposes  civil,  social,  and  polit- 
ical liberty  for  its  exercise  and  development.  Hence,  of  this  liberty 
the  Chui'ch  has  been  the  historical  expounder  and  defender. 

The  great  principles  of  natural  right,  of  justice,  equity,  equality, 
and  personal  freedom,  were  not  born  of  the  incomparable  brains 
which  guided  the  destinies  of  the  infant  Eepublic,  but  were  incor- 
porated into  the  Constitution  of  the  country  by  men  who  had 
adopted  the  teachings  of  the  wisest  of  mankind, — teachings  which 
had  been  enforced  with  all  the  acumen  of  penetrating  genius  and 
intellect,  by  the  theologians  and  social  philosophers  of  the  Catholic 
Church  at  every  period  of  her  history.  An  examination  of  the 
Federal  Constitution,  and  a  comparison  of  its  fundamental  provi- 
sions with  the  doctrines  of  the  Church,  will  evince  the  fact  that  this 
wonderful  concordance  could  arise  only  from  principles  flowing  from 
one  common  fountain,  and  as  the  Church  was  piior  to  the  Republic, 
that  fountain  was  the  inexhaustible  treasure  of  her  divine  teachings. 

The  State  has  always  been  rated  by  the  Church  a  Christian  insti- 
tution established  for  the  common  good,  but  to  her  it  is  a  matter  of 
indifference  whether  the  government  be  regal  or  plebeian,  feudal  or 
federative,  democratic  or  monarchical,  so  long  as  its  management  be 
conducted  in  accordance  with  those  principles  of  right  and  justice 
which  take  their  origin  in  the  law  of  God. 

And,  thank  God,  these  are  the  principles  which  our  governmental 
founders  made  the  basis  and  the  groundwork  of  the  States  of  this 
Republic.  Here  the  individual  is  not  sunk  in  the  supremacy  of  the 
State,  as  in  the  Roman  Empire;  and  here  the  State  does  not  lose  its 
identity  in  the  exaggerated  importance  of  the  individual,  as  in  the 
barbaric  principalities.  Here  are  no  despotic  monarchies  to  steal 
away  the  souls  of  enslaved  subjects;  and  here  are  no  privileged 
classes,  no  purse-proud  aristocracies  to  grind  the  face  of  God's  poor, 
a,nd  to  turn  the  lip  of  scorn  and  the  malignant  eye  of  pride  upon 
creatures  fashioned  by  the  hand  of  the  same  God,  from  the  same 
common  clay.  Here  is  no  paternal  patronizing  government  sus- 
tained by  the  fawns  and  cringes  of  the  courtly  sycophant;  but  here 
is  a  popular  and  acknowledged  sovereignty  rooted  in  the  hearts  and 
Affections  of  an  admiring  people.  Here  are  none  doomed  to  degrad- 
29 


450 

ing  servitude;  but  here  all  are  blessed  with  the  ennobling  light  of 
liberty. 

Under  the  starry  banner  of  the  great  American  Republic  the 
Church  has,  consequently,  a  field  for  zealous  endeavor  which  has 
never  been  presented  to  her  since  the  days  of  her  foundation,  and 
for  this  reason  the  Sovereign  Pontiff  turns  his  eyes  towards  the 
Western  world  with  tender  interest  and  hopeful  expectation.  Her 
marvellous  growth  and  development,  from  being  half  a  century  ago 
numerically  the  weakest  community  professing  the  Christian  religion, 
to  the  most  powerful  and  flourishing  at  the  present  hour,  compris- 
ing one  Apostolic  Delegate,  one  Cardinal,  fourteen  Archbishops, 
seventy-three  Bishops,  nearly  ten  thousand  priests,  and  ten  millions 
of  faithful  members,  gives  wonderful  promise  for  the  future,  and 
bids  fair  to  predestine  her  to  become  the  grandest  and  most  exten- 
sive portion  of  God's  kingdom  upon  this  earth.  Here  the  Chui'ch's 
growth  is  as  inevitable  as  the  flow  of  time.  Here  she  can  lift  her 
heavenly  voice  to  the  listening  ears  of  men  who  are  concerned  with 
maintaining  those  inalienable  rights  which,  God-given  and  God- 
guarded,  are  the  prerogatives  of  freemen;  to  the  ears  of  men  who 
are  not  phantoms,  or  ciphers,  but  recognized  factors  in  the  body 
politic.  Here,  too,  it  is  in  her  power  to  repel  those  ancient  calum- 
nies of  ignorance  and  tyranny  which  from  age  to  age  have  been 
alleged  against  her;  and  here  she  can  show  to  the  world  that  she 
loves  nothing  better  than  light,  and  fears  naught  but  darkness. 

The  service  of  the  Church  is  a  reasonable  service.  Blind,  un- 
reasoning obedience  forms  no  part  of  her  theology.  She  always  fur- 
nishes the  motives  for  the  obedience  and  subjection  she  demands, 
for  with  her  the  rights  of  nature  and  the  just  rights  of  man  have 
ever  been  supremely  paramount. 

Then  what  prevents  that  Americans  should  be  attracted  towards  a 
Church  which,  as  she  first  gave  to  the  world,  so  has  she  always  de- 
fended those  precious  principles  on  which  the  superb  structure  of 
American  liberty  was  founded  ?  Identity  of  principles  should  beget 
similarity  of  thought  and  action.  The  relation  between  the  civil 
order,  as  founded  in  the  Constitution,  and  the  moral  order,  as  sup- 
ported by  the  Church,  is  one  of  harmony  and  adaptation.  Why  may 
not  those  bonds  be  more  closely  cemented  ?  Why  not  look  hope- 
fully forward  to  the  day  when  men  shall  behold  a  far  more  perfect 


451 

unison  and  equivalence  between  Church  and  State,  and  a  more  per- 
fect order  of  Christian  progress  than  any  the  centuries  have  wit- 
nessed ?  The  greatest  CathoUc  intellect  that  has  yet  appeared  upon 
this  continent  believes  it  to  be  the  mission  of  the  Church  to  recon- 
cile liberty  with  authority;  and  Ai'chbishop  Ryan  deems  it  to  be,  to 
combine  unity  with  multiplicity,  which,  in  the  moral  order,  is  the 
same  as  that  of  the  Republic  in  the  civil:  E  pluribus  unum.  But 
whichever  formula  be  correct,  where  shall  be  found  that  unity  and 
authority  without  which  liberty  is  a  delusion,  and  multiplicity  a 
name,  which  is  essential  to  all  government,  and  to  maintain  which 
Americans  poured  out  life  and  treasure  with  eagerness  and  joy — 
where  shall  men  find  its  exemplification  and  fulfilment,  without  im- 
pairment of  individual  liberty,  and  without  negation  of  civil  author- 
ity, outside  of  the  Catholic  Church  ? 

Independence  inclines  men  to  be  self-willed  and  self-opinionated. 
Freedom  of  thought,  like  freedom  of  action,  is  peculiar  to  de- 
mocracy. The  consciousness  of  equality  begets  insubordination,  but 
at  the  same  time  it  seeks  unity,  simplicity,  and  impartiality  in  the 
powers  that  govern  society.  Political  views  are  easily  transferred 
to  the  realm  of  religion,  and  as  men  look  for  unity  in  the  political 
order,  so  are  they  led  to  seek  it  in  religion;  and  it  is  easier  for  them 
to  conceive  that  there  should  be  no  religion  at  aU  than  that  there 
should  be  many,  or,  as  with  us,  one  for  each  day  of  the  year. 

Hence,  though  it  unfortunately  happens  that  men  in  democracies 
are  little  favorable  to  reUgion,  yet  as  soon  as,  by  the  action  of  gSce, 
they  obtain  sufficient  interior  illuminatior^o  dispose  them  towards 
religion  at  all,  they  feel  a  powerful  propensity  towards  the  Catholic 
Church,  and  though  awed  by  her  doctrines,  are  charmed  by  her 
discipline,  authority,  and  her  grand  and  matchless  unity. 

Again,  the  Church  is  no  alien  on  these  shores.  Her  history  here 
runs  parallel  with  the  civil  history  of  the  nation.  She  wants  not  to 
Americanize  herself,  but  she  wants  all  her  children  to  be  Americans. 
The  vast  majority  of  Catholics  are  now  all  American  in  thought  and 
purpose,  in  hope  and  aspiration.  In  the  vanguard  of  civilization  stands 
America  to-day.  She  is  in  the  forefront  of  the  fight.  She  is  the  civil 
mistress  of  the  world.  She  courts  war  with  nobody,  and  there  is  none 
for  her  to  fear.  Her  progress  is  ever  onward;  her  face  is  towards 
the  morning  star.     She  is  endowed  with  all  the  elements  of  success. 


452 

She  has  French  activity,  British  endarance,  Italian  intellect,  Spanish 
chivalry,  Irish  bravery,  German  pertinacity,  and  the  unique  gift  of 
genius  and  enterprise  characteristic  of  New  England.  She  hates 
despotism;  she  abhors  Csesarism;  she  dreads  centralization.  So 
does  the  Church,  for  these  governments  are  deadly  foes  of  both 
Church  and  State,  religion  and  society. 

The  Church  must  flourish,  for  she  is  untrammelled  here.  She  has 
no  party  affiUations.  Her  fortunes  are  not  linked  with  any  govern- 
ment or  any  party.  Such  entanglements  were  forced  upon  her  in 
the  past.  History  has  recorded  the  result.  She  wants  no  more  of 
such  alliances.  Catholicity,  with  Catholics,  is  no  test  of  pohtical  pre- 
ferment. CathoHcity  has  no  recommendation  but  its  truth,  no 
claims  but  its  merits,  no  demands  but  "  a  free  field  and  no  favor." 
Despotism  militates  against  the  Church ;  the  Church  for  religion's 
sake,  and  humanity's  sake,  takes  her  stand  as  the  unalterable  foe  of 
despotism.  When  she  struck  the  shackles  from  the  limbs  of  the 
nations,  then,  and  then  only,  men  revelled  in  the  sunshine  of  free- 
dom, glowed  with  renewed  hopefulness  and  life. 

The  Church  is  not  committed  to  any  nationality.  The  national 
spirit  is  repugnant  to  her  heart,  inimical  to  her  genius,  destructive 
of  her  unity,  the  principle  of  her  growth.  No  nationality,  then,  is 
needed  here,  but  that  which  is  the  nationality  of  Americans.  Men 
are  not,  indeed,  to  forget  the  instincts  of  the  heart,  and  cease  to  love 
the  spot  of  their  birth.  But  they  are  to  learn  the  highest  patriotism 
for  xbe  land  of  their  adoption.  "  Not  that  I  love  Caesar  less,  but 
that  I  love  Rome  more.^  All  must  submit  to  the  process  of  as- 
similation and  absorption.  It  is  manifest  destiny;  it  is  eternal  fit- 
ness in  the  law  of  national  development.  Each  day  carries  on  the 
work  of  unification.  The  American  population  comprises  the  best 
constituents  of  the  European  nationalities,  all  rapidly  amalgamating 
into  one  homogeneous  people,  distinguished  by  a  lofty  spirit  of  inde- 
pendence and  an  invincible  love  of  hberty. 

We  have  two  characters  to  maintain — that  of  citizen  and  that  of 
Catholic.  The  one  involves  the  services  which  we  owe  to  society,  in- 
cluding the  functions  of  public  servants  and  the  duties  •  of  the 
governed  towards  the  laws;  the  other  takes  cognizance  of  those  re- 
ligious obligations  imposed  by  God,  and  referred  to  man's  final  end 
and  future  destiny.     These  two  are  distinct,  as  to  laws,  government. 


453 

and  authority.  "  Render  unto  Csesar  the  things  that  are  Caesar's,  and 
to  God  the  things  that  are  God's." 

They  are,  in  their  nature,  separate,  and,  to  use  the  old  comparison, 
like  two  parallel  lines,  which,  by  the  smallest  inclination,  lose  their 
identity.  The  two  orders  are  in  concert  and  correspondence ;  not  in 
subordination  or  dependence,  rendering  reciprocal  support  like  the 
State  and  Federal  govemnents  under  our  Constitution. 

The  civil  ruler  has  the  right  to  command,  but  as  his  authority  is 
purely  temporal,  it  cannot,  without  sacrilegious  usurpation,  extend 
to  the  domain  of  the  spiritual. 

But  Christ  gave  His  Church  authority  over  all  her  children.  Men 
may  be  born  kings  or  emperors,  but  they  are  not  born  Christians, 
nor  do  they  become  such  until  they  are  incorporated  into  the  unity 
of  the  Church  by  the  sacrament  of  Baptism.  Over  them  she  claims 
authority,  but  such  authority  only  as  Christ  gave  to  her  as  the 
spiritual  mother  of  mankind  when  He  said:  "  AJl  power  is  given  to 
Me." 

To  the  domain  of  temporals  that  does  not  extend,  save  so  far  as 
temporals  are  necessary  for  the  independence  of  the  Sovereign 
Pontiff  and  the  support  of  religion.  In  matters  temporal,  the  Church 
always  recognized  the  civil  jurisdiction  even  over  herself,  and  Jesus 
Christ  Himself  wrought  a  miracle  to  pay  tribute  to  a  'heathen 
emperor.  The  Church  commands  obedience  to  the  civil  power,  for 
he  that  resisteth  the  power  resisteth  the  ordinance  of  God.  And 
were  the  Pope  (I  make  the  allusion  with  all  reverence)  to  command 
resistance  to  the  civil  authority  lawfully  constituted,  Catholics  would 
say,  we  respect  the  keys  but  not  the  sword  of  Peter.  When  a 
pusillanimous  king  laid  his  crown  and  kingdom  at  the  feet  of  the 
Pontiff,  it  was  a  Catholic,  Archbishop  Langton,  and  Cathohc  barons 
who  rose  up  to  resist  the  man,  who,  unmindful  of  the  nature  and 
sanctity  of  his  office,  abused  the  Papal  prerogatives.  If  some  sought 
to  depose  sovereigns,  it  is  satisfactory  to  remember  that  this  doc- 
trine was  repudiated  by  Pius  the  VII.  in  his  letter  to  the  Irish 
bishops  in  1791. 

"  Who  is  here  so  base  that  will  not  love  his  country  ?  If  any, 
'speak;  for  him  have  I  offended."  Therefore,  we  must  identify  our- 
selves with  our  country ;  reverence  its  laws  and  institutions,  and  ac- 
cept them  with  loyalty  of  mind  and  heart,  so  long  as  they  do  not  in- 


454 

fringe  our  liberties  or  invade  our  conscience.  We  should  have  a 
pride  in  the  grandeur  and  glory  of  the  American  commonwealth, 
and  should  cherish  its  fame  and  honor  with  unfaltering  devotion. 
The  rising  generations  have  the  future  in  their  hands,  and  in  pro- 
portion as  they  understand  the  civil  order,  and  the  genius  of  the 
country,  in  the  same  proportion  can  they  benefit  religion.  There 
are  stout  hearts,  luxuriant  genius,  fiery  activity,  ardent  zeal,  among 
them.  They  need  care  and  guidance.  They  are,  many  of  them, 
drifting  into  indifference,  often  the  fruit  of  unkindness  and  neglect. 
Give  them  scope  and  encouragement.  Don't  chide  their  inexperience, 
and  pluck  the  flower  of  hope  from  their  young  hearts — hearts  as  yet 
sympathetic  with  naught  but  what  is  beautiful  and  real  around 
them;  do  not  frown  upon  those  upturned  faces — faces  as  yet  unpro- 
faned  and  fresh  from  the  mint  of  nature.  Teach  them  obedience, 
teach  them  loyalty,  teach  them  patriotism  and  devotion  to  their 
country.  Here  they  have  to  live,  and  here  they  have  to  thrive.  This 
country  is  their  country;  its  laws,  its  liberties,  and  its  glory  are  their 
birthright  and  inheritance  forever. 

Catholics  do  not  always  command  that  respect  and  confidence 
which  they  should.  Why  so  ?  Because  they  have  been  pusillan- 
imous and  faint-hearted.  Because  they  have  not  always  lived  up  to 
the  teachings  of  their  holy  faith.  Because  they  do  not  always  re- 
spect themselves.  As  the  world  helps  those  who  help  themselves,  so 
it  respects  those  who  respect  themselves.  Why  should  Catholics  al- 
ways be  hewers  of  wood  and  drawers  of  water  ?  Fire  of  intellect  is 
not  wanting  to  them,  neither  strength  of  arm.  If  they  are  not  un- 
disputed masters  of  more  of  the  broad  acres  of  this  Kepublic,  it  is 
because  the  sense  of  acquisition  has  not  been  properly  developed, 
and  they  have  been  deficient  in  thrift,  economy,  and  industry.  Are 
Catholic  electors  purer  than  those  of  other  religions  ?  Have  they 
never  tampered  with  the  sacredness  of  the  ballot  ?     When 

' '  Infamous  venality  grown  bold 
Writes  on  its  bosom,  *  To  be  let  or  sold,' " 

have  Catholics  always  spurned  the  damning  bribe  ?  Rum  has  been 
classed  with  Romanism  and  Rebellion.  Have  Catholics,  in  theii*  in- 
dividual capacity,  given  no  ground  for  the  charge  ?  We  abhor  fa- 
naticism, and  we  have  no  sympathy  with  those  who  indulge  an  in- 


455 

discriminating  denunciation  of  traffickers  in  liquor;  but  we  do  affirm 
that  if  the  greed  of  gold  lead  a  man  into  a  phase  of  business  which, 
however  it  enriches  him,  impoverishes  and  demoralizes  thousands, 
better  to  live  in  rags,  to  die  in  penury  and  loneliness,  and  be  buried 
in  potter's  field,  than  to  finger  wealth  which  comes  to  its  possessor 
laden  with  the  curses  of  broken-hearted  widowhood,  and  wet  with 
the  scalding  tears  of  famished,  homeless  orphans. 

The  Catholic  Church  is  the  hope  of  America.  The  spirit  of  true 
Americanism  is  the  spirit  of  Catholicity,  which  is  as  broad  as  hu- 
manity, as  comprehensive  as  the  race,  and  for  this  reason  the  Church 
is,  and  will  be,  a  great  fact  and  factor  in  American  civiHzation.  The 
influence  of  the  hierarchy  grows  apace.  The  Bishop  is  a  civil  ad- 
ministrator, as  well  as  a  spiritual  ruler,  and  he  holds  in  his  hands 
the  title-deeds  of  property  aggregating  hundreds  of  miUions.  The 
effects  of  his  office  extend  even  outside  the  pale  of  his  own  com- 
munion to  those  who  are  arrayed  against  the  Church  in  force  of  po- 
litical prejudice  or  social  policy.  The  incomparable  disciphne  of  the 
Cathohc  Church;  her  stability,  even  as  a  temporal  institution;  her 
order,  her  government,  and  her  conservative  policy  amidst  change, 
friction,  and  agitation  in  the  social  order,  are  every  day  exercising  a 
salutary,  if  unseen,  influence  upon  the  character  of  the  American 
people. 

The  most  ardent  admirers  of  the  Republic  have  regarded  with  ap- 
prehension the  complex  and  conflicting  elements,  the  party  jeal- 
ousies, the  sectional  divisions,  and  the  religious  differences  which 
abound  in  the  bosom  of  the  commonwealth;  and  very  recently  the 
cry  of  alarm  has  been  raised  in  consequence  of  occurrences  which 
are  the  natui-al  outcome  of  the  vast  varieties  of  character,  so  distinct 
in  form  and  feature,  and  often  so  antagonistic  in  thought  and  senti- 
ment, which  have  their  home  in  America. 

Should  the  spirit  of  sectionalism  ever  succeed  in  estranging  the 
people  of  the  North  from  the  people  of  the  South,  or  those  of  the 
East  from  those  in  the  West,  Americans  might  deplore  what  Daniel 
Webster  deprecated,  and  might  "  see  the  sun  shining  upon  the  broken 
and  dishonored  fragments  of  a  once  glorious  Union;  upon  States 
discordant,  dissevered,  and  belligerent,  and  upon  land  drenched,  it 
might  be,  in  fraternal  blood."  Should  the  spirit  of  liberty  overleap 
its  proper  bounds,  and  common  rights  and  privileges  give  birth  to 


456 

insubordination  and  defiance  of  authority,  Americans  might  say  fare- 
well to  that  peace,  that  protection  and  prosperity  which  now  they 
prize  as  the  apple  of  their  eye  and  the  tendrils  of  their  heart.  Should 
the  spirit  of  religious  rancor,  engendered  by  the  blind  bigotry  of  sec- 
tarianism, ever  exercise  potency  or  sway,  extermination  would  be 
the  calamitous  result,  and  what  is  now  religion  would  become  revo- 
lution, chaos,  anarchy,  and  disorder. 

That  equality  which  is  the  birthright  of  every  citizen;  that  liberty 
of  opinion  and  freedom  of  expression  which  men  enjoy  in  every- 
thing; that  independence  of  character  which  marks  the  very  tread 
and  visage  of  those  born  upon  American  soil,  is  both  a  blessing  and 
a  bane.  It  is,  indeed,  a  glorious  inheritance,  and  would  always  be 
as  beneficial  in  its  effects,  as  it  is  divine  in  its  origin,  were  it  not  for 
the  corruption  of  human  nature  and  force  of  human  passion.  But, 
alas!  man  is  still  a  child  of  clay;  his  virtues  are  tinctured  with  the 
sUme  of  which  he  is  compounded;  his  wisdom  runs  to  folly,  his 
liberty  to  licentiousness,  and  he  who  was  fashioned  in  the  sweet 
similitude  of  God,  walks  the  ways  of  sin  and  follows  on  his  toilsome 
journey,  a  frail  and  darkened  image. 

But  is  there  "no  balm  in  Gilead,"  "no  divine  physician "  here  ? 
Where  is  the  remedy  ?  Not  in  the  exercise  of  parental  authority 
over  those  who  brook  no  restraint.  Not  in  the  operation  of  law, 
when  the  law  itself  is  ignored.  Not  in  the  process  of  enlightenment, 
for  those  who  choose  to  follow  the  darkness.  Not  in  the  institutions 
of  democracy;  there  liberty  runs  riot.  Not  in  the  abridgment  of 
liberty — God  forbid. 

Some  power  is  required  to  tame  the  unruly  ardor  of  the  passions, 
to  teach  the  laws  of  duty  and  the  love  of  country,  to  fuse  incongru- 
ous and  discordant  elements  into  a  harmonious  whole — to  do  this 
some  power  is  demanded  of  higher  origin  and  more  harmonizing  in- 
fluence than  police  regulations,  or  the  arm  of  the  civil  code. 

That  power  is  the  Catholic  Church.  She  can  defend  our  land, 
our  liberty,  and  oar  civilization  against  these  ripening  dangers.  To 
the  zeal  and  wisdom  of  the  divinely  chosen  ministers  of  God  a 
scheme  has  been  unfolded  and  a  mission  assigned.  The  clergy  of  that 
Church,  "  the  heirs  of  the  first  pilgrims  of  the  Cross,"  have  come 
to  seek  their  inheritance.  They  have  come  to  glean  the  harvest  of 
the  New  World,  and  claim  the  continent  for  Christ.     The  record  of 


457 

the  services  they  have  rendered;  the  example  they  have  given;  the 
Gospel  which  they  preach;  the  loyalty  and  devotion  which  they  ex- 
hibited— these  constitute  the  claims  which  they  set  foiih  to  de- 
mand a  hearing,  and  taking  neither  gold  nor  silver,  seeking 
neither  power  nor  emolument,  they  come  as  the  harbingers  of 
peace  and  unity,  to  bring  the  boon  of  authority  and  liberty,  the  bul- 
warks and  basis  of  the  State,  by  teaching  to  every  man  that  wisdom 
which  maketh  wise  unto  salvation.  They  come  to  mould  the  minds 
and  hearts  of  men  to  the  laws  of  heaven  and  humanity;  to  blend  all 
into  one  brotherhood,  and  mould  all,  under  the  influence  of  the 
Church's  heavenly  hand,  to  the  highest  character  of  citizenship  and 
Christian  manhood.  They  come  to  shed  upon  all  the  gladdening 
rays  of  God's  holy  Gospel,  and  succor  and  support  man's  fallen  and 
degraded  nature.  They  come  to  draw  from  the  precious  legacy  left 
them  by  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  that  code  of  morals,  that  spirit  of 
discipline,  those  unchangeable  canons  of  conduct  which  alone  can 
restrain  the  impetuous  ardor  of  the  passions,  curb  the  sallies  of  per- 
verse inclinations,  check  the  social  disorders  that  afflict  society,  and 
captivate  the  heart  of  the  savage  as  well  as  the  mind  of  the  philoso- 
pher. They  come  to  teach  the  exercise  of  prayer,  the  practice  of 
morality,  the  value  of  purity,  the  sanctity  of  marriage,  brotherly 
love  and  tolerant  charity,  and  the  laws  of  obedience  and  responsi- 
bility for  governors  and  governed.  Enlightened  by  the  sad  experi- 
ence of  the  Church  in  Europe,  they  look  upon  the  emancipation  of 
the  Church  from  State  control  which  obtains  in  this  land,  as  a  sure 
indication  of  the  permanent  progress  of  both  Church  and  State.  And 
they  know  that,  as  far  as  the  laws  of  God  allow,  the  outward  economy 
of  religion  must  be  engrafted  upon  the  national  character,  and  must, 
as  far  as  possible,  reflect  the  laws  and  institutions  of  the  land,  and 
not  oppose  them. 

It  is  one  of  the  extraordinary  attributes  of  the  Catholic  Church 
that  it  is  adapted  to  all  governments.  Across  the  ocean  both  re- 
publics and  monarchies  recognized  her  rule  and  professed  her  creed, 
and  here,  too,  the  day  will  come  when  the  great  democracy  of  the 
New  "World  will  admit  her  merits  and  her  influence.  They  come, 
likewise,  to  proclaim  her  peerless  and  impregnable  unity.  That 
unity  it  is  that  has  enabled  her  to  be  the  largest  community  that 
lays  claim  to  the  Christian  name;  that  has  extended  her  glorious 


458 

empire  over  both  hemispheres  of  the  world;  that  has  produced  her 
marvellous  and  irresistible  march  along  the  centuries;  that  has  car- 
ried her  triumphantly  through  sorrow  and  oppression,  enduring  the 
cross  and  despising  shame,  like  the  thorn-crowned  King  who  rules 
her  destinies.  It  is  this  unity  which  empowers  her  priesthood  to 
preach  with  authority  the  good  seed  of  the  Gospel;  which  calls 
millions  from  idolatry  and  ignorance  into  the  light  of  the  one  true 
faith;  which  creates  the  unshaken  allegiance  of  her  followers  to  the 
rock  of  Peter;  which,  by  its  vivifying  spirit,  has  enabled  her  to  sur- 
mount all  persecution,  to  cast  aside  the  bandages  of  mourning,  to 
shine  in  the  full-orbed  splendor  of  her  mission,  and  to  come  forth  in 
this  new  hemisphere,  arrayed  in  majesty  and  beauty,  the  one,  uni- 
versal, incorruptible  Church  of  the  God  of  glory  and  His  eternal 
Son,  Jesus  Christ. 

That  Church  seeks  no  government  support,  and  no  national  en- 
dowment. Government  assistance  means  government  dependence, 
and  such  dependence  is  the  ruin  of  rehgion.  The  Catholic  hierarchy 
in  the  United  States  love  their  liberty,  rejoice  in  their  independence, 
and  know  the  power  which  their  present  status  gives  them  for  ad- 
vancing the  interests  of  religion  and  benefiting  society.  As  the 
ambassadors  of  God  they  follow  on  their  saintly  way,  beacon  lights 
of  sanctity  and  civilization,  approved  of  earth  and  registered  in 
heaven. 

"  To  guard  the  rehgion  of  this  young  Kepublic  from  annihilation; 
to  curb  the  turbulent  passions  of  a  fierce  and  impetuous,  but  proud 
and  enlightened  democracy;  to  reduce  to  harmony  and  order  the 
discordant  and  conflicting  elements  of  the  greatest  and  most  exten- 
sive country  of  free  government  that  the  sun  ever  shone  upon;  to 
crystallize  the  sympathies,  the  sentiments,  the  hopes  and  thoughts  of 
the  whole  American  people  into  one  incomparable  and  magnificent 
temple  of  morality  and  religion  " — ^this  is  the  mission  of  the  Catholic 
Church  in  America. 

That  Church  has  manifold  claims  upon  the  American  Republic. 
She  furnished  the  fathers  with  the  true  principles  of  civil  and  relig- 
ious liberty.  Their  proclamation  of  individual  freedom  was  but 
the  echo  of  Pope  Alexander  the  Third's  words,  when,  in  the  twelfth 
century,  he  declared  that  nature  had  made  no  slaves,  and  that  all 
men  had  equal  rights  to  life  and  liberty.     Thus  it  was  that  here  on 


459 

the  virgin  soil  of  America  the  star  of  constitutional  liberty  rose  as 
the  harbinger  of  the  new  day,  though  as  it  first  gleamed  above  the 
horizon  its  chaste  light  was  colored  by  the  mists  and  exhalations  of 
the  morning.  / 

The  Constitution  of  the  United  States  is  a  Catholic  document. 
It  embodies  the  great  Magna  Charta  wrested  from  the  tyrant  John 
by  Archbishop  Langton  on  the  plains  of  Runnymede,  the  right  of 
representation  to  justify  taxation  taught  by  Pope  Zachary  years  ago. 

Nothing  came  from  Europe  but  a  free  people  bearing  the  seeds  of 
Uberty  which  they  had  gathered  from  the  granaries  of  the  Catholic 
Church.  Like  the  perpetual  fire  in  the  Sanctuary  of  the  prophet 
of  sorrows,  the  light  of  faith  and  the  fire  of  freedom  burned  in  the 
land  of  Calvert,  but  from  its  feeble  flame  the  torch  of  constitutional 
liberty  was  lighted,  which  now  floods  every  corner  of  our  land  with 
its  benign  radiance  and  genial  glow. 

But  as  they  were  the  heralds  of  religion,  so  the  Catholic  clergy 
were  the  pioneers  of  civilization  in  this  land.  Bishop  Lynch,  of 
Charleston,  some  years  ago  startled  the  world  by  the  announcement 
that  there  was  a  pre-Columbian  history  of  our  continent  in  the  ar- 
chives of  the  Catholic  Church.  America,  called  Great  Lreland,  was 
discovered  by  St.  Brendan  in  the  sixth  century.  It  may  be  that 
New  England  bishops  can  claim  sees  from  Bishops  John  and  Eric, 
who  in  the  middle  ages  built  churches,  shed  their  blood,  and 
founded  the  Catholic  Repubhc  of  America  before  a  Puritan  set  foot 
on  Plymouth  Rock,  and  before  a  Plantagenet  or  a  Tudor  wielded  the 
sceptre  of  an  Alfred  or  an  Ethelred.  In  1494  Father  Boyle,  twelve 
priests,  and  150  Catholics  planted  the  Cross  of  Christ  on  these 
shores.  From  those  days  onward  they  came  to  gladden  the  New 
World  with  the  light  of  the  Gospel,  even  while  they  perished  hke 
the  leaves  in  Vallombrosa's  vale.  There  was  one  of  them,  who,  at 
the  caU  of  duty,  left  his  order  to  rule  the  nascent  American  Church, 
the  illustrious  Archbishop  CarroU,  of  Baltimore.  His  word  was  as  a 
two-edged  sword  cutting  keen  and  trenchant  Hke  a  Damascus  blade. 
Many  stole  his  arrows,  but  few  could  bend  his  bow.  With  an  eye 
blazing  like  crushed  diamonds,  a  wiU  imperious  as  the  mountain 
storm,  an  intellect  burning  with  the  volcanic  fire  of  intelligence,  a 
heart  broad  as  humanity,  comprehensive  as  the  race,  and  a  hand 
moved  by  destiny  and  upheld  by  God,  he  planted  the  tree  of  the 


460 

Cross  of  Jesus  Christ  so  deeply  in  the  soil  of  this  continent  that  it 
shall  stand  forever,  until  the  last  throb  of  the  pulse  of  time,  as  the 
symbol  of  God's  sovereignty  over  the  confederation  of  these  States, 
as  the  seal  of  Christ's  redemption,  against  all  the  assaults  of  hell,  to 
the  whole  American  people. 

Shall  we  be  less  courageous  than  our  predecessors?  Shall  we, 
through  supine  neglect,  or  cowardice,  permit  the  prize  to  be  borne 
from  our  grasp  ?  Behold,  the  time  speeds  quickly,  the  last  days  are 
at  hand.  We  are  the  spiritual  husbandmen  of  Jesus  Christ;  the 
heart  of  America  is  our  field  of  labor;  Christianity  is  our  cause  and 
Grod  is  our  commander.  The .  harvest  is  ripe  and  heavy,  but  the 
gleaners  go  not  forth  to  gather  the  golden  grain.  Shall  we  not  put 
our  hand  to  the  plow,  and  shall  we  forbear  our  toil  ?  No,  while  the 
doorstones  serve  for  pulpits,  and  while  our  tongues  are  unwrenched 
from  our  mouths,  we  must  not  cease  to  proclaim  the  glad  tidings  of 
salvation,  to  preach  Jesus  Christ  and  Him  crucified,  and  to  hurl  the 
damnation  of  God  upon  the  head  of  him  who  seeks  to  uproot  relig- 
ion on  the  soil  of  the  Eepublic.  A  new  age  is  upon  us,  not  of  perse- 
cution, but  of  trial.  The  Church  is  about  to  be  sifted,  the  wheat 
from  the  chaff ;  the  first  to  be  gathered  into  the  garners  of  God, 
the  second  to  make  fuel  for  fire.  Now  it  is  to  be  proved  who  are 
Christ's  and  who  are  not;  and  who  vnll  follow  with  their  Christ  to 
Calvary,  and  who,  saving  their  lives,  shall  yet  lose  them.  A  few  cen- 
turies may  witness  more  than  we  now  dream.  What  a  privilege  it 
wiU  be  to  live  when  Catholicity  shall  be  received  as  the  religion  of 
this  Republic,  and  when  all  shall  be  actuated  by  the  same  principles 
of  faith  that  governed  Christ  and  His  Apostles !  I  behold  before 
my  mental  eye  visions  of  peace  and  happiness  which  the  Catholic 
Church  is  to  convert  into  blessed  realities.  But  no,  they  are  not 
dreams  or  visions,  but  realities  as  surely  to  be  experienced  in  full- 
ness, as  the  towering  oak  is  to  grow  when  I  see  the  acorn  planted, 
or  the  man,  when  I  behold  a  child. 

We  have  here  a  grand  and  beautiful  country.  So  extensive  a 
State  has  never,  perhaps,  been  endowed  with  institutions  so  favorable 
to  the  common  good,  to  all  the  arts  of  peace,  to  national  growth  and 
prosperity.  The  Egyptian  civilization  was  carried  into  Greece,  and 
Grecian  civilization  was,  in  turn,  transferred  to  Bome,  and  by  her 
conquering  arms  was  bome  to  the  banks  of  the  blue  Danube,  to  Gaul 


461 

and  Britain,  when  Caesar  descried  the  white  cHffs  of  Albion,  and 
sought  to  add  the  laurels  of  the  western  island  to  his  famous  con- 
quests. Rome  had  a  noble  destiny;  the  destiny  of  Britain  was 
grander  still;  but  the  splendor  and  magnificence  of  the  mission  of 
the  United  States  will  cast  into  the  deepest  shade  the  achievements 
of  the  nations  of  antiquity,  and  ecHpse  the  glory  of  every  other  mod- 
em people. 

The  supremacy  of  the  people,  under  God,  is  here  everywhere 
maintained.  The  laws  and  institutions  of  the  land  are  upheld  with 
patriotic  loyalty  and  devotion,  and  though  European  despots  had  pre- 
dicted the  early  decline  of  the  RepubHc,  now,  after  more  than  a  cen- 
tury of  national  existence,  checkered  by  the  ravages  of  two  deadly 
conflicts,  the  institutions  of  democracy  give  no  sign  of  decay,  and 
flourish  in  their  original  vigor  and  integrity.  European  nations,  al- 
most without  exception,  long  for  change;  the  thin  edge  of  the  wedge 
of  democracy  has  akeady  entered  England;  other  states  seem  to  stand 
on  the  verge  of  a  volcano;  some  may  soon  labor  in  the  thi'oes  of  revo- 
lution; discontent,  unrest,  and  hungry  expectation  may  disturb  the 
minds  of  the  masses,  and  give  cause  for  general  alarm ;  but  here  we 
are  at  peace,  and  enjoy  all  the  rights  of  liberty  under  the  undisputed 
;reign  of  law.  Our  form  of  government  engages  the  admiration,  and 
our  Constitution  the  adhesion  of  an  inteUigent  and  freedom-loving 
people.  Our  vessels'  keels  cleave  every  wave,  our  sails  are  furled  in 
countless  foreign  harbors,  our  enterprise  is  borne  to  every  clime. 
Every  man  here  has  the  ownership  of  himself.  He  is  free  to  enjoy 
the  results  of  his  labors,  to  declare  the  convictions  of  his  mind,  to 
share  in  the  making  cf  the  laws,  and  in  selecting  the  rulers  of  the 
nation.  And  we  are  a  God-fearing  people.  Religion  is  neither  pro- 
scribed nor  supported  by  the  government,  but  fixed  in  the  enlight- 
ened convictions  and  graven  on  the  receptive  hearts  of  a  people 
who,  with  the  first  illustrious  President  of  the  Republic,  believe  that, 
aside  from  morality  and  religion,  the  foundations  of  a  State  are  laid 
on  yielding  sand,  which  is  constantly  overrun  by  the  waves  of  social 
convulsion,  or  the  blood-red  waters  of  revolution,  anarchy,  and  ruin. 
Our  progress  is  without  parallel  or  precedent. 

Not  long  ago,  our  vast  territory  beyond  the  Mississippi  was  an  im- 
mense waste,  where  the  rank  vegetation  grew  unbidden,  and  the 
prairie  wolf  roamed  unscared.     Not  a  single  mark  of  civilization  of 


462 

our  modem  type  anywhere  appeared,  nor  a  monument  erected  by  the 
skill  and  contrivance  of  the  hand  of  man. 

Bat  the  destinies  of  a  nation  are  not  guided  by  the  star  of  blind 
fate,  nor  the  hand  of  accident,  but  by  the  unerring  and  controlling 
government  of  the  all-ruling  providence  of  God,  and  under  His  pro- 
tecting care  we  can  trace  the  path  of  our  country's  progress,  and 
follow  the  steps  by  which  God  has  conducted  her  to  the  lofty  sum- 
mits of  her  grandeur  and  her  glory. 

Soon,  very  soon,  indeed,  the  memorable  quarter-centennial  year, 
the  four-hundredth  anniversary  of  the  discovery  of  this  Republic, 
will  be  here  and  gone;  and  when  it  has  become  an  epoch  of  the  past, 
our  beloved  country  will  have  entered  on  a  still  brighter  period  of 
her  ever-onward  and  glorious  march.  Long  and  earnestly  has  this 
time  been  looked  for;  fondly  has  it  been  anticipated;  and  when  it 
shall  have  come,  grandly  will  it  be  celebrated. 

Were  it  permitted  the  indomitable  Genoese  traveller,  who  in  his 
fancied  passage  to  far  Cathay,  discovered  to  mankind  another 
world,  to  be  present  at  the  festivities  and  rejoicings  of  the  year  1893, 
how  smilingly  would  he  behold  the  thrifty  and  prosperous  nation 
spring  up  as  if  by  magic  in  the  land  in  which  he  planted  the  Cross  of 
Christ  four  hundred  years  ago.  Would  not  the  immortal  Washing- 
ton and  his  compatriots,  if  looking  on  the  scene,  see  in  it  an  almost 
perfect  realization  of  their  hopes  and  dreams,  when  struggling  to  es- 
tabUsh  the  Hberties  of  their  country  ? 

America's  progress,  during  the  last  one  hundred  years,  in  all  the 
arts  and  sciences,  in  the  cause  of  human  freedom,  in  civilization,  and 
in  Christianity  itself,  is  the  marvel  of  the  world,  and  must  be  an  ob- 
ject of  admiration,  not  alone  to  those  who  glory  in  the  title  of  "  civis 
Americanus,"  but  to  every  enlightened  mind  who  has  acquaintance 
with  her  history. 

The  colossal  world-exhibition,  to  be  inaugurated  and  perfected  in 
the  great  city  of  Chicago,  in  commemoration  of  this  progress,  as  well 
as  of  the  discovery  of  the  continent,  is  a  project  worthy  of  the  Amer- 
ican people,  and  will,  we  make  no  doubt,  be  so  conducted  as  to  pre- 
sent another  proof  of  the  genius  and  enterprise  which  they  possess. 
The  tact  and  energy  of  those  who  conceived  it  will  not  suffer  it  to 
fail,  but  will  can-y  it  to  a  successful  and  glorious  issue.  The  good 
results  thence  to  come  are  •beyond  all  present  computation.  And 
how  magnificent  the  sight  in  the  city  of  Chicago ! 


463 

In  the  vast  and  imposing  buildings  which  will  be  constructed,  we 
shall  see  displayed  in  endless  variety,  not  only  all  the  products  and 
manufactures  of  America,  all  the  monuments  of  Yankee  genius  and 
American  mind,  but  those  likewise  of  every  nation  on  the  face  of  the 
green  globe.  Machinery  so  complicated  and  useful,  so  wondrously 
constructed  as  to  dim  by  comparison  the  triumphs  of  human  skill  in 
ages  past;  works  of  art  whose  grandeur  will  baffle  all  powers  of  de- 
scription ;  there  will  be  seen,  in  rich  and  varied  profusion,  all  the 
productions  of  nature,  side  by  side  with  all  the  inventions  of  highly 
cultivated  art. 

"Will  not  the  contemplation  of  this  display  be  a  powerful  incentive 
to  renewed  endeavor,  and  will  it  not  teach  new  lessons  of  enterprise 
and  industry  ?  Will  it  not  stimulate  the  already  proverbial  activity 
of  the  American  people,  and  give  a  fresh  impulse  to  every  field  of  en- 
deavor among  the  awakening  and  semi-civilized  nations  of  the  East, 
who  now  owe  a  mighty  debt  to  the  emulation  evoked  among  them 
by  commercial  contact  with  the  people  of  this  country  ?  Will  it  not 
conduce  to  the  establishment  of  that  harmonious  and  fraternal  feel- 
ing, the  dream  of  optimistic  philosophers,  which,  it  is  expected,  must 
one  day  exist  among  the  nations  of  the  earth  ?  Let  us  at  least  in- 
dulge that  hope. 

Let  us  rejoice  in  the  forthcoming  celebration  of  the  discovery  of 
this  land.  Let  us  rejoice  that  an  international  exhibition  will  be 
held;  for  we,  who  are  Catholics,  who  glory  in  the  triumph  of  our 
holy  Mother,  may  feel  a  pardonable  pride  in  the  part  she  has  played 
in  the  marveUous  history  of  this  country.  To  us  it  must  always  be 
an  inexpressible  satisfaction  to  remember  that  the  comer-stone  of 
the  great  fabric  of  American  freedom  was  quarried,  cut,  and  placed 
securely  in  its  place  by  Lord  Baltimore  and  his  little  colony  of 
Catholics,  when  they  proclaimed,  defended,  and  first  reduced  to 
living  practice  the  sacred  and  priceless  principles  of  civil  and  re- 
ligious liberty.  To  them,  in  great  measure,  belongs  the  honor  of 
paving  the  way  to  make  the  Republic  the  highway  of  freedom,  the 
home  of  manly  independence,  the  asylum  within  whose  wide-em- 
bracing walls  the  down-trodden  and  oppressed  of  every  clime  have 
found  shelter  and  security  from  the  persecutions  of  fanaticism  and 
intolerance. 

Remembering  her  glorious   history  upon  the  shores  of  the  New 


464 

World,  so  closely  blended  with  the  civil  history  of  the  nation,  the 
American  people  will  discern  that  she  is  not  the  enemy,  but  the  true 
friend  of  progress,  and  the  most  powerful  ally  of  civilization  in  the 
Western  world;  that  she  is  the  soul  and  inspiration  of  art,  and  the 
foster-mother  of  light  and  liberty. 

No  international  exhibition  can  be  held  in  this  or  any  other  land 
in  which  the  splendors  of  the  Catholic  Church  will  not  shine  like  the 
stars  in  the  firraambnt. 

But  all  is  not  happiness  and  prosperity  in  this  favored  land  of 
ours;  all  is  not  liberty  of  conscience  in  this  liberty-loving  land  of 
ours. 

The  American  people,  it  is  trne,  are,  in  the  main,  virtuous,  and 
they  are  generally  generous  and  just;  and  they  sometimes  suffer 
their  judgment  to  be  beclouded  by  the  mists  of  bigotry  and  intoler- 
ance. It  is  true  that  America,  as  a  nation,  has  never  flagrantly 
violated  the  holy  principles  of  religious  freedom;  and  yet,  there  are 
those  upon  her  soil  who  regard  us  with  suspicion  and  distrust,  and 
who  are  aiming  to  deprive  the  Cathohc  Church  of  her  sacred  pre- 
rogatives, and  her  children  of  those  inalienable  rights  to  which  they 
have  established  their  claim  by  their  unswerving  fidelity  to  her  laws, 
and  their  gallant  services  in  her  defense  when  the  implacable  foe 
threatened  ruthlessly  to  destroy  her. 

Be  it  ours  to  remove  this  unfounded  prejudice  from  the  minds  of 
our  fellow-citizens,  to  extirpate  it  from  the  land  and  banish  it  for- 
ever. Let  us  perform  those  duties  which  are  incumbent  on  us  as 
electors  in  tbe  State  and  as  members  of  the  Church,  with  God-fear- 
ing diligence,  and  we  shall  contribute  not  a  little  to  the  accomplish- 
ment of  this  end,  so  '^idevoutly  to  be  wished."  Let  us  endeavor  to 
let  our  light  so  shine  before  men,  that,  being  overpowered  by  the 
influence  oi  onr  example,  the  rectitude  of  our  conduct,  and  the 
purity  of  our  Ivos,  they  may  soon  perceive  their  false  conception  of 
our  tenets  n  ■.  I  principles;  and,  having  cast  aside  all  bigotry  and 
prejudice,  t  la    come  to  regard  us  with  feelings  of  fellowship 

and  love,  an  ;  inaUy  be  led  into  the  companionship  of  that  faithful 
flock  whic  I'lit  one  fold  and  one  Shepherd. 


VII. 
THE  SONG  OF  SALVATION. 

OPENING  OF  AN  ORGAN,  ST.  MARY'S   CHURCH,  HOBOKEN,  N.  J. 

"O  Lord  God,  Almighty  King,  Thou  hast  made  heaven  and 
earth  and  all  things  that  are  under  the  cope  of  heaven."  God  is 
the  primeval  Author  of  all  things.  "  He  spoke  and  they  were  made; 
He  commanded  and  they  were  created."  At  the  formation  of  the 
universe  His  Spirit  brooded  over  the  chaotic  deep.  His  voice  rang 
through  the  vast  and  yawning  void,  thrilling  every  pulse  and  artery 
of  time,  and  commanding  order  from  tumultuous  Babel,  and  the 
song  of  heavenly  harmony  evoked  by  the  fiat  of  the  great  Creator's 
call  will  sound  through  the  radiant  archways  of  the  world  till  time 
\shall  be  no  more.  The  sun  which  He  has  made  to  cheer  our  sight  by 
day  will  shine  for  cycles  yet  to  come;  through  hoary  ages  the  silent 
stars  will  shimmer  in  the  vault  of  night;  the  lordly  rivers  will  roll 
with  perennial  motion  from  their  sources  to  the  sea;  the  swift  revo- 
lution of  events  and  the  changes  of  the  seasons  will  proceed  in  their 
perpetual  round  till  the  world  shall,  at  length,  decay  with  age,  and  a 
new  heaven  and  a  new  earth  shall  then  succeed.  But  amid  these 
wonderful  changes  of  the  visible  creation,  God  in  His  glory  shall  ever 
shine  with  undiminished  light  in  one  uninterrupted  permanence  of 
eternity.  "  Li  the  beginning,  O  Lord  !  Thou  didst  found  the  earth, 
and  the  heavens  are  the  work  of  Thy  hands  They  shall  perish,  but 
Thou  shalt  remain;  they  shall  grow  old  as  a  garment,  and  as  a 
vesture  Thou  shalt  change  them,  and  they  shall  be  changed.  But 
Thou  Thyself  art  the  self-same,  and  Thy  years  shall  not  fail." 

God  alone  is  eternal  and  imchangeable.  There  is  nothing  per- 
manent under  the  sun.  Change  is  the  condition  of  finite  existence. 
The  bud  opens  to  let  out  the  rose;  the  acorn  shoots  into  the  oak; 
30 


466 

the  seed  springeth  up  into  the  flower;  the  smiling  babe  becomes 
the  chattering  child,  and  the  child  expands  into  the  thoughtful  man. 

Development  is  the  law  of  life;  progress  is  the  fruit  of  humanity. 
Development  is  growth,  and  growth  is  a  vital  act.  Human  growth 
is  along  the  lines  of  humanity.  It  corresponds  with  nature  and  its 
environments.  On  one  side  it  is  in  the  limited  and  finite  order,  in 
that  it  is  mutable,  variable,  and  progressive.  On  the  other  it  is  in 
the  uncreated  and  eternal  order,  in  that  it  depends  for  continuous 
existence  upon  the  unchangeable  life  of  an  eternal  principle  in  whom 
all  things  live  and  move  and  have  their  being. 

To  live  is  to  correspond  with  our  environments;  to  correspond 
with  our  environments  is  to  use  them,  to  subdue  them,  to  make 
them  subservient  to  the  necessities  of  our  being.  When  man  first 
issued  from  his  Maker's  hand,  he  was  clothed  with  the  control  of  his 
faculties  and  dominion  of  the  earth.  "  The  earth  He  gave  to  the 
children  of  men."  Man  is,  therefore,  the  maker  of  his  destiny;  he 
holds  his  hfe  in  his  hands. 

The  moment  the  new-bom  child  awakes  to  the  consciousness  of 
existence,  he  finds  himself  in  a  world  whose  laws  and  forces  seem  to 
be  in  contradiction  to  his  nature.  How  grand,  how  majestical  is 
man  !  How  weak,  how  impotent !  Under  one  respect  the  Darwin- 
ian hypothesis  has  foundation  in  fact;  life  is  a  struggle  for  exist- 
ence. Man  has  not  the  strength  of  the  lion;  the  fleetness  of  the 
deer;  the  endurance  of  the  dromedary.  Time  was,  some  think,, 
when  he  lived  a  painful  and  laborious  life,  making  his  home  in 
caves,  clothing  himself  in  skins,  or,  may  be,  as  an  aboriginal  savage, 
he  squatted  in  morasses,  lurking  for  bestial  or  human  prey,  and 
glaring  fiercely  under  his  fleece  of  hair  which  reached  to  his  loins 
and  hung  about  him  like  a  matted  cloak. 

But  as  a^means  of  self -protection,  he  possesses  liberty  and  intelli- 
gence. By  the  well-directed  exercise  of  his  Ood-given  powers,  he 
acquires  a  knowledge  and  mastery  of  the  world  around  him,  and  by 
the  exercise  of  his  liberty  he  changes,  modifies,  and  reconstructs  it 
for  his  use  and  benefit. 

By  the  labor  of  his  hands  he  arrests  the  growth  of  deserts;  fells 
opposing  forests;  levels  obstructing  mountains;  fills  yawning 
chasms;  builds  pathways  over  streams;  constructs  habitations  for 
shelter;  provides  raiment  for  the  body,  and  effects  those  prodigious 


467 

transformations  which  claim  the  praise  of  civilization.  He  measures 
the  space  in  which  he  moves;  counts  the  objects  which  pass  before 
his  vision;  observes  the  action  and  the  properties  of  bodies;  resolves 
matter  into  its  first  elements,  and  creates  the  physical  and  mathe- 
matical sciences.  He  wrests  her  secrets  from  the  womb  of  Nature; 
pierces  the  gloomy  caverns  of  the  under  world;  breaks  down  the 
barriers  that  oppose  his  progress;  draws  the  lightning  from  the 
clouds;  converts  the  raindrops  into  the  awful  energy  of  steaming 
vapor;  alters  air  with  dynamic  force;  summons  all  the  powers  and 
energies  of  Nature  to  execute  his  bidding;  and  then  scrutinizing  the 
principles  and  laws  that  govern  his  industry,  he  generates  the  noble 
science  of  political  economy.  ^ 

In  the  exercise  of  his  intelligence  he  observes  the  social  character 
of  his  nature,  sees  that  he  maintains  relations  with  his  fellows,  and 
besides  the  useful  and  the  necessary,  he  perceives  the  ideas  of  right 
and  justice,  property  and  government,  and  constitutes  the  State  for 
the  enforcement  of  legal  rights  and  duties,  that  the  peaceable  exer- 
cise of  liberty  and  reciprocal  equality  may  be  maintained.  Nor  is 
this  all. 

When  an  enchanting  landscape,  mountains  of  lofty  and  harmoni- 
ous proportions,  grateful  and  intoxicating  odors,  brilliant  and  varie- 
gated colors,  melodious  and  rhythmical  sounds  strike  his  senses  and 
appeal  to  his  imagination,  he  forms  the  notion  of  the  beautiful,  com- 
mences aesthetic  culture,  and  builds  from  the  world  of  Nature  a 
world  of  art,  in  which  he  seeks  to  reflect  the  hidden  glories  of 
divinity  itself. 

Nay,  if  endowed  with  a  soul  attuned  to  Nature's  harmonies,  he 
finds  the  nectar  on  which  his  spirit  feeds  in  the  petals  and  volutes 
of  the  flower,  in  the  umbrageous  stillness  of  grots  and  caves,  in 
the  purling  of  silvery  streams,  in  the  bright  orbs  that  shine  in  the 
firmament,  in  the  vermilion-tinted  sky,  in  the  salvos  of  the  rolling 
thunder,  in  the  blue  haze  of  distant  mountains,  in  the  bright  verdure 
of  the  valleys,  in  the  waving  of  the  grain-fields,  in  the  bleating  of 
the  flocks,  in  the  lowing  of  the  kine,  in  the  glow-worm's  twinkling 
light,  in  the  pearly  dewdrops,  in  the  pattering  of  the  rain,  in  the 
driving  sleet,  in  the  rainbow's  dazzling  hues — in  all  the  myriad 
sights  and  sounds  that  cheer,  elevate,  purify,  and  ennoble  the  great 
high  heart  of  humanity. 


468 

He  finds  it  in  the  sighing  of  the  breeze,  the  moaning  of  the  night- 
wind,  the  rushing  of  the  tempest;  in  the  surges  that  lash  the  rock- 
bound  shore,  the  repining  of  the  forests,  in  the  night-fowl  that  com- 
plain to  the  moon,  in  the  tenderness  of  twilight,  in  the  fair  and 
beauteous  cheek  of  dawn,  in  the  diamond  light  of  day,  in  the  color 
of  the  rose,  the  perfume  of  the  violet,  in  the  sweet-scented  breath  of 
May,  in  the  brown  and  russet  vesture  of  October,  and  the  ermined 
and  crystalline  robes  of  Winter.  He  beholds  it  in  the  noble  figure  of 
man — the  flash  of  his  genius,  the  fire  of  his  intellect,  the  strength  of 
his  arm,  the  skill  and  cunning  of  his  hand,  his  courage,  his  intrepid- 
ity, his  valor,  and  his  enterprise.  He  beholds  it  in  the  graceful 
form  of  woman,  the  glory  of  her  carriage,  the  majesty  of  her  move- 
ment, the  lustre  of  her  eye,  the  damask  tint  upon  her  cheek;  in  her 
patience,  her  endurance,  her  tenderness,  in  the  all-conquering  power 
of  her  devotion,  her  faith,  her  hope,  and  her  love.  He  beholds  it  in 
lofty  aspirations,  superhuman  motives,  sublime  impulses,  valorous 
and  chivalrous  deeds,  self-sacrifice,  self-renunciation,  and  aU  that 
makes  for  the  grandeur,  nobility,  and  dignity  of  humankind  and  the 
glory  and  honor  of  the  race. 

Such  are  the  phenomena  on  which  the  soulful  child  of  Nature 
feeds,  like  the  fabled  god  on  Ambrosia;  these  manifold  forms, 
sounds,  colors,  odors,  sentiments,  feelings,  aspirations,  furnish  him 
with  sensations  of  exquisite  pleasure,  lofty  inspiration,  inexpressible 
delight;  yes,  they  delight,  but  do  not  satisfy  the  soul;  for  how  can 
the  dewdrop  quench  the  sun,  or  the  brooklet  overflow  the  sea  ? 

In  the  very  constitution  of  humanity  are  revealed  the  cravings  of 
a  higher  nature ;  the  deathless  aspiration  of  a  soul  which  no  terrene 
delights  can  satiate;  an  impulse,  a  tendency  to  a  boundless,  pure 
happiness  which  time-born  things  may  indicate,  but  never  can  be- 
stow. When  the  soulful  child  of  song  tunes  his  lyre  to  duplicate  by 
expression  the  delights  his  sensibility  receives  from  the  spirit  of 
beauty  about  him,  it  is  because  his  enthusiastic  aspirations  discern  in 
the  distance  something  unattainable  under  heaven's  dome.  Perennial 
and  immortal  in  the  heart  of  man  burns  an  unquenchable  thirst 
which  can  be  allayed  only  in  the  crystal  springs  of  Paradise.  Like 
a  flash  of  light  in  the  darkness  of  the  tempest,  amid  the  storm  and 
gloom  of  this  lower  sphere  man  gains  a  glimpse  of  the  glories  be- 
yond the  bounda^'ies  of  a  fallen  world,  and  so  incessantly  sighs  for 


469 

the  gold-bright  light  of  God,  and  frantically  struggles  to  grasp  the 
infinite,  supernal  loveliness  whose  entrancing  joys  gush  forth,  in 
saHent  streams,  from  the  fountain  of  felicity  itself.  This  is  the 
hope  which  springs  eternal  in  the  human  breast.  Whenever  paint- 
ing, poetry,  sculpture,  music,  song,  and  those  beauties  which  are  in- 
trinsic to  the  essence  of  the  nobler  arts,  passionately  and  uncontrol- 
lably stir  the  finer  feelings  and  emotions  of  the  heart,  then  the  soul 
is  transported  beyond  itself.  As  the  flush  of  dawn  heralds  the 
glory  of  the  day,  the  human  beauty  is  a  hint  or  a  reflection  of  the 
divine,  and  with  a  cry  of  wild,  impatient  longing,  sad  because  un- 
satisfied, joyful  because  expectant,  the  soul  stretches  out  the  intense 
energy  of  its  efforts  to  picture,  to  conceive,  nay  to  grasp,  at  once 
and  eternally,  the  balmy  bliss,  of  which,  on  earth,  we  catch  but  faint 
and  transient  gleams.  This  divine  Ideal,  it  is,  that  imparts  to  art 
the  power  of  touching  and  moving  the  human  heart.  It  is  the  ani- 
mating soul  which  makes  exanimate  existences  instinct  with  an  in- 
corporate life  and  beauty,  and  robes,  with  an  ethereal  and  refined 
loveliness,  the  material  things  of  time. 

By  the  influence  of  music,  more  than  by  any  other  power,  per- 
haps, the  soul  obtains  the  vision  of  that  supernal  essence  it  longs  so 
much  to  see.  It  feels,  under  music's  magic  spell,  itself  upborne  to 
the  rosy  atmosphere  where  beauty  dwells  full-orbed,  unclouded  and 
divine.  We  seem  to  feel  that  from  an  earthly  instrument  come 
cadences  that  fall  from  earthly  harps  in  heaven. 

"  Seated  one  day  at  the  organ,'' 

I  was  weary  and  ill  at  ease, 
And  my  fingers  wandered  idly 

Over  the  noisy  keys. 
I  know  not  what  I  was  playing, 

Or  what  I  was  dreaming  then. 
But  I  struck  one  chord  of  music 

Like  the  sound  of  a  grand  Amen! " 

Man  was  made  for  heaven.  All  things  tend  according  to  the  im- 
pulse of  their  first  creation.  Bodies  gravitate  towards  the  centre  of 
the  earth;  the  soul  aspires  above.  Man's  impatience  will  not  rest. 
He  longs  to  place  his  finger  upon  the  primal  Spring  of  being;  to 
seize  the  motive  power  that  rolls  the  suns  and  lights  the  stars;  to 
bathe,  at  once,  in  dreams  of  seraphs ;   "  to  become  twin  brother 


470 

with  the  angels";  to  feel  the  flashing  of  their  wings,  to  clasp  them 
in  his  embrace;  to  sing  the  songs  the  angels  sing, — to  mount,  strong, 
radiant,  glorious,  into  the  ethereal  essence  of  supernal  Beauty.  In 
the  effort  to  reach  out  his  arms  to  the  realms  of  rosy  joy,  his  im- 
agination bodies  forth  forms  and  sounds  which  reflect  beauty  even 
more  than  the  beauty  of  nature  or  of  art.  It  is  the  soul  picture  of 
the  Creator.  "Without  it  art  is  folly,  nature  is  chaos.  Its  hues  are 
all  of  heaven,  and  religion  alone  can  limn  its  features.  Chained  to 
the  concrete  conditions  of  sense,  man  sees  but  multitudinous  forms 
of  an  outward  world,  but  in  the  sunlight  of  religion  he  discerns  the 
cause  of  all  the  forms,  forces,  and  perfections  of  the  creation  around 
him.  Beyond  the  world  of  art,  of  industry,  of  nature,  and  of  fancy 
man  must  conceive  a  God.  A  world  without  God  is  an  incompre- 
hensible enigma;  a  God  without  a  world  is  to  man  a  myth. 

"  Thou  art,  O  God!  the  life  and  light 
Of  all  this  wondrous  world  we  see, 
Its  glow  by  day,  its  smile  by  night, 
Are  but  reflections  caught  from  Thee." 

When  the  pious  pilgrim  goes  forth  at  eventide  of  Summer  to  gaze 
upon  the  lovely  features  of  the  landscape,  will  not  instructive 
thought  flash  athwart  the  beautiful  expanse  to  God: 

"  Beautiful  world  shining  around  me, 
Manifold,  million-hued  wonders  confoimd  me; 
From  earth,  sea  and  starry  sky,  meadows  and  mountains 
Eagerly  gushes  life's  magical  fountains. 
Thou  quick-teeming  world  though  scoffers  may  blame  thee, 
I  adore  and  worship  the  God  who  hath  framed  thee." 

When  as  a  bridegroom  in  his  bridal  chamber  man  goeth  to  com- 
mune with  nature  "in  the  cool,  the  fragrant,  and  the  silent  hour, 
to  meditation  due  and  sacred  song,"  he  finds 

*'  A  tongue  in  every  flame 
And  hears  a  voice  in  every  wave." 

"  There  is  a  pleasure  in  the  pathless  woods. 
There  is  a  rapture  on  the  lonely  shore; 
There  is  a  society  where  none  intrudes 
By  the  deep  sea,  and  music  in  its  roar. 


471 

I  love  not  man  the  less,  but  nature  more. 

From  these  our  interviews  in  which  I  steal 

From  all  I  may  be,  or  have  been  before. 

To  mingle  with  the  universe  and  feel 

What  I  can  ne'er  express  and  cannot  all  conceal." 

There  is  a  sweetness  in  the  morning  air  upon  the  mountain-top, 
when  the  sun  bathes  with  light  the  roseate  sky,  and 

"  The  mom  her  sunlit  steps  .... 

Adorning  sows  the  hills  with  Orient  pearls." 
"I  love  upon  the  mountain-top  to  watch  the  sun 

Spring  from  the  ocean-bed,  with  joyous  leap, 

And  start  exultant  in  his  grand  career." 

We  behold  Him  who  formeth  the  mountains,  created  the  winds, 
and  walketh  upon  the  high  places  of  the  earth,  not  only  when  the 
torrents  leap,  and  the  whirlwinds  roar;  when  abyss  calls  unto  abyss 
in  the  voice  of  many  waters  ;  but  also  when  the  zephyr  softly  mur- 
murs, and  the  streamlet  whispers  low, — 

"  Combined  with  the  gentle  minstrelsy  of  the  grove. 
The  song  of  birds, — the  distant  waterfall, 
The  leafy  whisper  of  the  wood,  the  hum 
Of  insect  life, — rude  sounds!  but  yet  they  come 
In  likeness  of  vibrations  musical. 
And  thus  the  poetry  of  common  things 
Awakes  a  spiritual  verdure  in  the  heart 
And  sends  up  the  dew  of  thought  to  God." 

The  slightest  reverberation  of  the  air  is  like  the  archangel's  voice 
•calling,  not  to  the  dome 

"  Where  crumbling  arch  and  column 

Attest  the  feebleness  of  mortal  hand, 
But  to  that  Fane,  most  Catholic  and  solemn, 

Which  God  hath  planned. 
To  that  Cathedral,  boundless  as  our  wonder, 

Whose  quenchless  lamps,  the  sun  and  moon  and  sky, 
Its  choir  the  winds  and  waves, — its  organ  thunder. 

Its  vault  the  sky." 

Pause  and  admire  the  sapphired  heavens,  smiling  with  the  love  of 
its  Creator,  and  listen  to  the  heavenly  music  when  the  "  vocal  gales 


•  472 

blow  soft  to  liim  whose  spirit  in  their  freshness  moves."  To  wander 
through  the  leafy  wood  when  the  *'  early  pipe  of  half-awakened 
birds  "  sounds  vibrative  upon  the  ear,  is  to  feel  that  each  warbling 
note  is  a  summons  to  the  vanishing  silence  of  the  night  and  the 
motion  of  the  morning  to  join  hands  in  prayer  and  salutation  to  the 
Lord  of  light  and  life.  But  when  gurgling  rill,  roaring  torrent, 
sighing  breeze,  rushing  wind,  feathered  vocalists,  and  the  whole 
choir  of  creation  blend  their  voices  in  melodious  concord,  how  soul- 
filling  is  the  burst  of  harmony,  as  the  atmosphere's  loud-swelling 
organ  peals  forth  its  invocation  and  calls  all  the  sons  of  men  to  the 
worship  of  their  Maker. 

"  Ah  !  me,  what  hand  can  touch  the  string  so  fine  ? 

Who  up  the  lofty  diapason  roll 
Such  sweet,  such  sad,  such  solemn  airs  divine, 

Then  let  them  down  again  into  the  soul  ? 
They  breathed  in  tender  musings  through  the  heart ; 
As  when  seraphic  hands  a  hymn  impart : 
Wild,  warbling  nature  all,  above  the  reach  of  art." 

The  perception  of  God  in  the  natural  world,  but  distinct  from  His 
works,  is  the  foundation  of  natural  rehgion.  But  natural  reHgion, 
in  the  abstract,  cannot  satisfy  the  soul.  'Tis  not  enough  to  con- 
template forms  of  beauty;  to  listen  to  sounds  of  music, — man  must 
find  expression  for  the  feelings  and  emotions  of  his  soul.  He  must 
hold  converse  with  his  Creator  and  pay  worship  to  his  God.  It  is 
of  the  essence  of  fruitful  ideas  to  find  their  realization.  The  rites  of 
reHgion  and  the  symbols  of  worship  are  the  development  of  the  re- 
ligious sentiment.  Man  has  senses  no  less  than  soul;  and  his  whole 
being  belongs  to  God.  Worship  is  to  natural  religion  what  the 
State  is  to  primitive  society;  the  world  of  industry  to  the  world  of 
nature  what  art  is  to  beauty.  The  world  of  worship  is  superior  to 
the  ordinary  world,  in  that  its  distinctive  purpose  is  to  unite  man  to 
God  by  vivid  images,  expressive  symbols,  attractive  forms,  pregnant 
ceremonies. 

No  worship  finds  favor  with  God  but  that  which  springs  from  the 
heart.  "  These  people  honor  Me  with  their  lips,  but  their  heart  is 
far  from  Me."  The  prayer  of  the  contrite  heart  yields  more 
pleasure  to  God  than  the  incense  of  smokiug  holocausts.  But  while 
the  prayer  of  the  pure  heart  alone  pierces  to  the  throne  inaccessible, 


473 

the  external  splendor  of  divine  worship  is  not  inconsistent  with  the 
ordinances  of  the  Almighty. 

Every  heart  feels  the  sensations  that  affect  the  soul  when  some 
object  strikes  the  senses  pleasantly  or  powerfully;  how  majesty  and 
grandeur  inspire  awe  and  reverence;  how  music  influences  the  whole 
frame  of  man. 

"  Oh,  there's  a  holy  calm  profound 

In  awe  like  this 

*Tis  a  solemn  voice  from  heaven, 
And  the  soul,  listening  to  the  sound. 
Lies  mute  and  still." 

For  such  reasons  did  Jehovah  pay  particular  attention  to  the  ex- 
terior dignity  and  ceremonial  part  of  the  Jewish  worship,  whose 
pomp  and  magnificence  exceed  those  of  all  other  religions,  and  from 
aU  nations  did  people  come  to  witness  the  grandeur  of  the  temple 
and  the  splendid  solemnity  of  the  service. 

The  Catholic  Church,  sensible  of  the  glorious  God  she  adores,  sur- 
rounds the  homage  she  pays  to  Him  with  all  possible  solemnity  and 
neglects  nothing  in  the  regulation  of  His  service  which  adds  dignity 
to  her  august  worship  and  infuses  into  the  breasts  of  His  children 
the  fear  and  love  of  their  Creator.  Every  candid  mind  will  ac- 
knowledge something  captivating  in  the  liturgy  and  symbolism  of 
the  Church.  Said  a  Protestant  to  me  not  long  since  :  "  I  was  never 
more  surprised  and  pleased  than  when  your  predecessor  explained 
to  me  the  beautiful  significance  of  the  mural  decorations  in  the 
Church."  Even  unbelievers  have  been  singularly  struck  at  witness- 
ing the  grandeur  of  the  ceremonial  of  the  Mass,  and  were  constrained 
to  confess  that  it  excited  within  their  bosoms  sentiments  of  devotion 
and  reverence  of  which  they  deemed  themselves  incapable.  How 
impressive  and  how  solemn  it  is  in  the  large  cathedi'al  when  con- 
ducted with  all  the  solemnity  that  the  magnificence  of  her  ritual, 
the  richness  of  her  ornaments,  the  splendor  of  her  vestments,  and 
the  brilliancy  of  her  golden  vessels,  gleaming  with  the  lustre  of  the 
myriad  lights  about  the  altar,  impart  to  the  service  of  the  Church  I 
Strangely  constituted  must  that  man  be  who  derives  no  elevation  of 
soul  from  the  imposing  spectacle  of  CathoHc  service  on  a  great 
festival  like  Corpus  Christi. 

The  absurd  rigorists  in  rehgion  who  would  banish  these  aids  to 


474 

piety  and  worship  as  unmeaning  or  useless  pageantry,  have  never 
learned  to  appreciate  the  magical  effect  of  external  observances  upon 
the  minds  of  men.  The  eye  is  an  open  avenue  to  the  heart,  as 
teachers  of  history  have  long  since  discovered.  "  Never  did  I  wit- 
ness," says  a  Protestant  in  Rome,  "  the  ceremony  of  procession,  the 
long  line  of  priests  in  sacred  robes,  the  crowds  which  precede  and 
follow  them  in  religious  silence,  the  multitude  prostrate  upon  the 
ground.  Never  did  I  hear  the  grave  and  pathetic  music  of  the 
solemn  chant  and  sublime  anthem  without  the  strongest  sensations 
of  devotion,  and  without  the  tribute  of  a  tear."  "Suppress  the 
sensible  symbols  of  religion,  and  the  rest  becomes  a  metaphysical 
galhmatia,  as  varied  as  the  variety  of  men's  imaginations." 

The  Church  of  Christ  is  not  of  the  world,  but  it  is  in  the  world, 
and  it  has  a  human  as  well  as  a  divine  element.  The  Church  is  com- 
posed of  men  and  she  operates  on  men,  and,  to  some  extent,  she  is 
limited  to  the  conditions  of  human  existence.  If  men  were  angels, 
and  the  Church  an  altogether  invisible  and  supersensible  agency,  she 
would  make  all  her  communications  of  truth  in  a  manner  adapted  to 
such  modes  of  existence.  But  men  are  corporeal  beings,  and  depend 
for  their  knowledge  entirely  on  their  senses,  which  are  the  windows 
of  the  soul,  for,  as  the  philosopher  affirms,  nothing  exists  in  the  in- 
tellect which  did  not  first  exist  in  the  senses.  Man  is  a  compound  of 
body  and  soul,  and  acts  according  to  his  nature,  which  philosophy 
again  expresses  by  saying  that  action  follows  the  nature  or  being  of 
a  thing  {dctw  sequitur  esse). 

The  Church,  therefore,  is  not  purely  spiritual,  because  man  is  not 
pure  spirit;  nor  wholly  intellectual,  for  man  has  a  heart;  nor  alto- 
gether rational,  for  man  has  feeling,  emotion,  and  imagination.*  But 
what  men  feel,  that  they  do  and  must  express.  Voiceless  love  is 
lifeless  love.  "  Behold,  my  beloved  speaketh  to  me."  Love  has  a 
language.  Ceremony  is  the  language  of  religious  love.  "  Ceremony 
is  bom  of  love,  respect,  reverence,  adoration."  f  St.  Teresa  would 
die  for  a  single  ceremony  of  the  Church.  True  worship  is  both  in- 
ternal and  external,  and  proceeding  from  the  integral  man,  heart, 
mind,  soul,  and  senses  all  concerned,  it  elevates  the  whole  man, 
through  the  symbols  of  art  and  nature,  towards  the  divine  Ideal  he 
longs  to  see,  enjoy,  adore.     By  this  adoration  the  soul  undergoes  a 

*  J.  L.  Spaulding,  Essays  and  Lectures.  f  Ibid. 


475 

Bpiritual  transfiguration.  "  Its  face  doth  shine  as  the  sun,"  and  its 
"garments  become  white  as  snow."  It  enjoys  a  foretaste  of  the  su- 
preme fehcity,  and  all  but  seizes  that  inexhaustible  treasure  of  bliss 
which  glows  in  the  bosom  of  divinity.  It  "  pants  and  longs  to  come 
thither,"  where  its  joy  shall  be  always  full;  where  it  will  be  always 
fresh;  where  it  will  be  always  present;  where  no  pain,  no  grief,  no 
solicitude,  nor  any  evil  can  approach;  where  naught  but  the  sound 
of  gladness  shall  be  heard,  and  naught  but  what  delights  shall  be 
ever  seen;  where  joyful  canticles  of  praise  shall  forever  chsirm  the 
ear,  and  the  light  of  God  Himself  shall  be  an  unfailing  source  of  joy 
and  transport  to  the  soul,  and  where  the  burning  throne  and  the  ef- 
fulgence of  the  Lamb  thereupon,  shall  inspire  new  flames  of  seraphic 
love  and  fresh  ecstasies  of  joy  within  the  heart,  through  the  per- 
petual duration  of  the  heavenly  kingdom. 

But  God's  kingdom  upon  earth,  whose  coming  was  heralded  by  the 
songs  of  angels,  will  continue  in  this  world  to  sing  the  praises  of  that 
God,  whose  glories  she  shall  chant  forever,  in  the  city  of  redeemed  hu- 
manity, with  the  childi'en  of  Israel  and  the  daughters  of  Zion,  in  the 
land  of  the  light,  in  the  everlasting  realms  of  the  King  of  Heaven 
and  earth.  Her  existence  here  below  is  but  a  preparation  of  that 
which  is  to  come,  and  with  an  ecstatic  prescience  of  her  glorified  con- 
dition in  the  mansions  of  immortality,  she  continues  to  admonish  her 
children  in  hymns  and  spiritual  canticles,  to  prepai'e  for  the  glories 
that  are  to  be  amid  the  sweet  songs  and  perennial  joys  of  Paradise. 
The  bride  of  Christ  will  take  the  cithara  of  David  to  soothe  the 
troubled  spirit  of  man's  unruly  passion,  and  solace  the  sadness  of  the 
human  heart  by  the  grateful  melody  of  her  sacred  songs.  With  the 
royal  prophet  she  calls  upon  "  aU  nations,  all  people,  all  tribes  and 
tongues  " ;  she  calls  upon  "  sun,  moon,  and  stars,  wind  and  tempest, 
frost  and  dew,  to  praise  the  Lord  because  His  mercies  are  great  and 
endureth  forever."  "  Let  them  sing  to  Him  a  new  song  whose  praise 
is  in  the  Church  of  His  saints.  Let  them  sing  to  Him  in  chorus;  let 
them  chant  to  Him  with  timbrel  and  psaltery.  Sing  ye  to  the  Lord; 
sing  to  our  God  upon  the  harp.  Who  covereth  the  heavens  with 
clouds  and  prepareth  rain  for  the  earth.  Who  causeth  the  grass  to 
grow  upon  the  mountains,  and  herbs  for  the  service  of  men.  Who 
giveth  to  the  beasts  their  food,  and  to  the  young  ravens  who  call  to 
Him.     Praise*  the  Lord,  O  Jerusalem !     Praise  thy  God,  O  Zion ! 


476 

Because  He  hath  strengthened  the  bolts  of  thy  gates.  He  hath  blessed 
thy  children  within  thee.  He  hath  placed  peace  in  thy  borders  and 
filled  thee  with  the  fat  of  corn.  Praise  ye  the  Lord  in  His  holy 
places !  Praise  ye  Him  in  the  firmament  of  His  power !  Praise  ye 
Him  in  His  mighty  acts !  Praise  Him  for  the  multitude  of  His 
mercies !  Praise  Him  with  the  sound  of  the  trumpet !  Praise  Him 
with  psaltery  and  harp !  Praise  Him  with  timbrel  and  choir;  praise 
Him  with  strings  and  organs;  praise  Him  on  high-sounding  cymbals. 
Let  every  spirit  praise  the  Lord !     Amen  !  Alleluia  !  " 

The  Church  recognizes  the  power  of  the  senses  over  the  heart  and 
character,  and  she  knows  that  of  all  the  senses,  that  of  hearing  has 
most  potency  upon  the  soul  of  man.  "  Faith  itself  comes  by  hear- 
ing." Hearing  is  the  most  spiritual  of  all  the  senses.  To  this  sense 
the  musician  is  indebted  for  the  wonderful  effects  he  produces  over 
the  mind  and  heart  of  man.  "  Let  me  make  the  songs  of  a  people," 
says  the  philosopher,  "  and  I  care  not  who  makes  their  laws." 

That  harmonious  correspondence  of  sounds,  which,  though  not 
especially  directed  to  the  intelligence,  has  yet  the  power  of  exciting 
so  many  lively  feelings  and  emotions  in  the  soul,  is  addressed  to  the 
heart  by  the  medium  of  hearing,  the  delicate  vibrations  of  the  sound 
playing  upon  the  tympanum  of  the  ear,  and  sending  the  spiritual 
breath  of  music  through  every  chord  and  fibre  of  the  soul. 

The  influence  which  music  bears  upon  the  moral  and  intellectual 
life  of  man  is  sufficient  to  entitle  it  to  the  attention  of  all  lovers  of 
the  true,  the  good,  and  the  beautiful.  So  strong  is  the  tendency  of 
music  to  elevate  and  ennoble  the  heart  and  mind,  that  an  acquaint- 
ance with  the  science  has  always  been  associated,  not  only  with  cul- 
ture and  refinement,  but  even  with  honor  and  virtue.  It  is  not 
strange,  then,  that  so  much  has  been  said  of  music,  or  that  it  should 
have  been  so  highly  cherished  by  all  people,  even  the  rudest  and 
most  unrefined.  Hard  it  is,  indeed,  to  imagine  a  person  for  whom 
music  has  no  charms,  and  into  whose  soul  its  power  cannot  penetrate. 
Of  such  an  individual  we  instinctively  recall  the  words  of  the  prince 

of  poets: 

"  The  man  that  has  not  music  in  himself, 
And  is  not  moved  by  concord  of  sweet  sounds, 
Is  fit  for  treasons,  stratagems,  and  spoils; 
His  spirits  are  as  dull  as  night, 
And  his  affections  dark  as  Erebus. 
Let  no  such  man  be  trusted." 


477       • 

Classed  among  the  fine  arts,  and  holding,  perhaps,  the  highest 
place  among  them,  music  is  woiihy  of  a  rank  in  the  curriculum  of 
every  educational  establishment.  The  student,  thus  educated,  can 
find  sweet  pleasure  in  the  strains  of  Nature's  melody,  and  discover 
beauty  where  other  eyes  are  blind,  and  other  eai's  are  deaf.     To  him 

"There's  music  in  the  sighing  of  the  reed, 
There's  music  in  the  gushing  of  the  rill: 
There's  music  in  all  things,  if  men  had  ears, 
The  earth  is  but  a  music  of  the  spheres." 

To  him 

"  There's  not  the  smallest  orb  which  he  beholdeth, 
But  in  his  motion  like  an  angel  sings; 
Still  choiring  to  the  young-eyed  cherubim; 
Such  harmony  is  in  immortal  souls; 
,  But  whilst  the  muddy  vesture  of  decay 
Doth  grossly  close  it  in,  we  cannot  hear  it." 

All  peoples  have  sought  to  give  voice  to  the  feelings  of  their  soul 
by  the  sound  of  song,  and  to  lighten  the  burden  of  their  sorrow  by 
the  language  of  melody.  The  sad  heart  is  healed  by  the  magic 
breath  of  music.  Indeed,  if  this  divine  art  were  susceptible  of  no 
higher  influence  than  to  take  the  sting  out  of  adversity,  and  furnish 
the  dejected  and  disappointed  with  sweet  solace  when  overburdened 
with  grief,  men  would  stiU  have  sufficient  motive  to  cultivate  this 
charming  woe-beguiler,  and  give  thanks  to  gracious  heaven  for 
blessing  them  with  such  compensation  for  the  ills  that  beset  life's 
thorny  pathway.  Dark  and  irremediable  is  the  despair  that  over- 
hangs a  people  when  the  "  cold  chain  of  silence  "  is  thrown  around 
their  songs.  When  God  threatened  dire  vengeance  upon  the  people 
of  Israel,  He  said  that  He  would  make*  them  orphans,  and  would 
leave  Jerusalem  a  widow;  but  the  cup  of  their  misery  was  filled  up 
when  He  seemed  to  paralyze  their  faculty  of  speech,  and  render 
mute  and  dumb  the  breath  of  melody  that  inspired  the  life  of  the 
nation.  In  the  dark  days  of  their  captivity  they  hung  their  silent 
harps  upon  the  willow  boughs,  and  sat  down  by  the  sad  waters,  pour- 
ing forth  the  despairing  plaint:  "How  can  we  sing  our  songs  in  a 
strange  land  ?  " 

The  music  of  a  nation  is  an  index  to  the  national  character.  The 
weird,  minor  music  of  Ireland  pathetically  symbolizes  the  fallen  con- 


•       478 

dition  of  her  ancient  glory.  Beautifully  does  the  bard  typify  the 
nation's  grief,  in  his  touching  address  to  the  much-loved  harp, 
whose  strains  he  once  gave  "  to  light,  freedom,  and  song  ": 

"  Sing,  sad  harp,  O,  sing  to  me, 

Some  song  of  ancient  days, 
"Whose  sounds,  in  this  sad  memory, 

Long-buried  dreams  shall  raise. 
Sing  some  lay  of  vanished  fame, 

Whose  light  once  round  us  shone, 
Of  noble  pride  now  turned  to  shame, 

And  hopes  forever  gone. 
Sing,  sad  harp,  thus  sing  to  me 

Alike  our  doom  is  cast; 
Both  lost  to  all  but  memory. 

We  live  but  in  the  past. 

"  How  mournfully  the  midnight  air 

Among  thy  chords  doth  sigh, 
As  if  it  sought  some  echo  there 

Of  voices  long  gone  by. 
Of  chieftains,  now  forgot,  who  seemed 

The  foremost  then  in  fame, 
Of  bards  who  once  immortal  deemed, 

Now  sleep  without  a  name. 
In  vain,  sad  harp,  the  midnight  air 

Among  thy  chords  doth  sigh. 
In  vain  it  seeks  an  echo  there 

Of  voices  long  gone  by. 

"  Oh  !  couldst  thou  call  the  spirits  round. 

Who  once  in  bower  and  hall 
Sat  listening  to  thy  magic  sound, 

Now^ute  and  mouldering  all: 
But  no:  they  would  but  wake  to  weep 

Their  children's  slavery; — 
Then  leave  them  in  their  peaceful  sleep; — 

The  dead  at  least  are  free. 
Hush,  hush,  sad  harp,  that  dreary  tone, 

That  knell  of  Freedom's  day  : 
In  listening  to  its  deathlike  moan, 

Let  me,  too,  die  away." 

How  magical  the  effect  of  music  in  awakening  the  domestic  affec- 
tions and  stirring  all  those  tender  impulses  of  the  heart,  which  by 


479 

their  unhindered  play  surround  the  family  circle  with  a  celestial 
halo,  and  make  man's  earthly  home  as  beautiful  as  heaven. 

'  *  Domestic  happiness,  thou  only  bliss 
Of  Paradise  that  has  survived  the  fall ! 
Though  few  now  taste  the  unimpaired  and  pure, 
Or  tasting  long  enjoy  thee  !  too  infirm, 
Or  too  incautious  to  preserve  thy  sweets. 
Unmixed  with  drops  of  bitter,  which  neglect 
Or  temper  sheds  into  thy  crystal  cup." 

But  when  these  infelicities  have  by  their  sullying  breath  marred 
the  untarnished  purity  of  earlier  marital  joys,  what  can  chaiTQ  away 
the  genius  of  discord  like  the  mighty  spell  of  music  ?  What  can 
comfort  the  sad-heai*ted  and  cheer  the  toil-worn  like  the  sweet 
strains  of  some  ancient,  well-known  melody  ?  What  can  cement  the 
bonds  of  social  love,  soothe  the  aching  heart,  enliven  the  weary  mind, 
aye,  soften  and  refine  the  harshest  and  most  rugged  nature  like  the 
talismanic  touch  of  song  ? 

On  the  field  of  battle,  where  death  roams  wide  in  his  withering 
power;  where  the  cannon  peals  like  crashing  thunder;  where  the 
lightning  gleam  of  the  death-fire  flashes  all  along  the  lines;  where 
shot  and  shell  fall  like  tempestuous  hail  upon  war-worn  battalions, 
and  comrades  pillow  their  heads  upon  the  gory  ground,  what  can 
lift  the  drooping  energies  and  fire  the  sinking  soul  with  renewed 
hope  and  spirit  like  the  sound  of  the  bugle  blast  ?  The  drum  beats  to 
the  charge  and  summons  the  disheartened  troops  to  rally  once  again 
to  meet  the  advancing  host;  and  with  kindling  eye,  and  lip  of  pride, 
and  stem  and  stately  tread,  and  flushed  brow  defiant  of  death,  the 
intrepid  veterans  press  on,  as  the  inspiring  notes  of  the  martial 
music  fall  upon  their  ears;  press  on,  as  their  staggering  souls  are 
strengthened  and  their  drooping  energies  revived  by  the  soul-kin- 
dling melody,  to  perform  prodigies  of  valor,  to  pierce  the  severed 
hosts  before  them,  and  then 

•*  Contention,  like  a  horse. 
Full  of  high  feeding,  madly  hath  broke  loose, 
And  bears  down  all  before  him." 

What  power  can'*  create  a  soul  under  the  ribs  of  death  "like 
music's  thrilling  touch?    It  lays  its  faiiy  wand  upon  the  corpse-like 


480 

past  and  breathes  and  acts  in  the  living  present.  Tell  me  you  who  have 
long  been  separated  from  the  scenes  of  your  boyhood's  dreams  and 
duties,  what  uncontrollable  thrill,  what  wild,  soul-bursting  emotion 
is  that  which  fills  every  chamber  of  the  soul  at  the  sound  of  the  old 
familiar  song  which  you  sang  with  the  free-hearted  and  careless  joy 
that  dwells  alone  in  the  paradise  of  early  years,  when  the  earth  is 
all  beautiful,  and  the  world  is  all  fair,  because  the  heart  is  all  in- 
nocent and  pure.     Ah ! 

"  That  strain  again;  it  had  a  dying  fall: 
Oh  !  it  came  o'er  my  ear  like  the  sweet  South, 
That  breathes  upon  a  bank  of  violets, 
Stealing  and  giving  odor." 

Let  the  philosophers  say  what  they  will,  we  would  live  life  over. 
"  Sweet  as  remembered  kisses  after  death  "  are  the  "  days  that  are 
no  more."  But  music  bids  them  live  again!  The  woodland  glades, 
and  the  shady  dells  where  boyish  footsteps  roamed,  grow  green 
again,  and  the  waving  trees  and  rippling  streams  that  lulled  our 
roving  eyes  to  slumber,  once  more  sigh  and  gurgle  in  dreams  of  the 
former  time,  as  we  seem  to  hear  the  music  of  the  Sunday  chimes 
and  the  loved  sound  of  the  village  bell  in  those  native  shades,  from 
which  with  tears  and  sighs  we  parted  long,  O !  so  long  ago !_ 

**  Good  heaven  what  sorrow  gloomed  that  parting  day, 
That  called  them  from  their  native  walks  away. 
When  the  poor  exiles,  every  pleasure  past, 
Hung  round  the  bowers  and  fondly  looked  their  last; 
And  took  a  long  farewell,  and  wished  in  vain, 
For  seats  like  these  beyond  the  Western  main. 
And  shuddering  still  to  face  the  distant  deep, 
Returned  and  wept,  and  still  returned  to  weep." 

The  scene  has  changed  since  then;  other  times  are  come;  new 
faces  gathered  round;  new  friends  are  found;  but  the  sweet-voiced 
tone  of  music  bids  the  old  ones  live  again.  The  old  song  is  again 
sung; — the  song  heard  from  the  ploughman  in  the  fields;  from  the 
smithy  at  his  toil;  from  the  dairy-maid  milking  her  cow; — aye  ! 
from  the  mother  who  bore  us  at  her  breast  in  the  budding-time  of 
childhood ;  and  the  low-roofed  cottage  rises  before  the  vision  once 
more,  and  the  hedgerows,  and  the  flower-beds  are  in  bloom  again. 


481 

and  the  cliiirchyard  where  our  father's  bones  are  laid,  and  where  we 
doubtless  dreamed  our  own  would  mingle  with  the  dust,  all  come 
from  the  halls  of  death  and  rise  from  obUvion  by  the  power  of 
music's  necromancy. 

**  Sweet  notes,  they  tell  of  former  peace, 
Of  all  that  looked  so  rapturous  then; — 
Now, — withered,  lost  ! — Oh  !  pray  thee  cease, 
I  cannot  bear  these  sounds  again." 

Aptly  the  same  poet,  the  true  child  of  song,  Thos.  Moore,  sings: 

"  When  through  life  unblest  we  rove. 

Losing  all  that  made  life  dear, 
Should  some  notes,  we  used  to  love 

In  days  of  boyhood,  meet  our  ear; — 
Oh  !  how  welcome  breathes  the  strain, 

Wakening  thoughts  that  long  have  slept, 
Kindling  former  smiles  again, 

In  faded  eyes  that  long  have  wept. 

"  Like  the  gale  that  sighs  along 

Beds  of  Oriental  flowers, 
Is  the  grateful  breath  of  song, 

That  once  was  heard  in  happier  hours. 
Filled  with  balm  the  gale  sighs  on, 

Tho'  the  flowers  are  sunk  in  death, — 
So  when  pleasure's  dream  is  gone, 

Its  memory  lives  in  music's  breath. 

"  Music  !  oh,  how  faint,  how  weak, 

Language  fades  before  thy  spell, 
Why  should  feeling  ever  speak 

When  thou  canst  breathe  her  soul  so  well  ? 
Friendship's  balmy  words  may  feign, — 

Love's  are  even  more  false  than  they; 
Oh  !  'tis  only  music's  strain 

Can  sweetly  soothe,  and  not  betray." 

Such  is  the  omnipotent  power  of  music,  that  we  may  allow  the 
poet's  fancy  to  be  not  far  removed  from  truth,  when  he  said  that 

"  Orpheus'  lute  was  strung  with  poets'  sinews, 
Whose  golden  touch  could  soften  steel  and  stones. 
Make  tigers  tame,  and  huge  leviathans 
Forsake  unsounded  depths  to  dance  on  sands.** 

31 


482 

Nor  that  beautiful  sentiment  from  the  author  of  the  "  Fair  Penitent ": 

"  E'en  rage  itself  is  cheered  with  music; 
It  wakes  a  glad  remembrance  of  our  youth, 
Calls  back  past  joys,  and  warms  us  into  transport." 

In  the  temples  of  the  living  God,  when  the  mind  is  distracted  by 
the  memory  of  earthly  things,  or  oppressed  by  the  weight  of  indo- 
lence or  tepidity,  how  powerful,  how  efficacious  are  the  choir  and  the 
organ  in  fixing  attention,  elevating  aspiration,  and  exciting  devotion. 
Are  not  the  sounds  which  proceed  from  the  chantry  a  faint  echo  of 
the  homage  which  the  Almighty  receives  in  perfection  from  the  shin- 
ing seraphim  who  sing  the  old,  eternal  song  beside  the  sapphire 
throne  ?  "  And  I  beheld,"  says  St.  John,  "  and  lo !  a  lamb  stood  upon 
Mt.  Sion,  and  with  him  an  hundred  and  forty-four  thousand  having 
his  name,  and  the  name  of  his  Father  written  on  their  foreheads. 
And  I  heard  a  voice  from  heaven,  as  the  noise  of  many  waters,  and 
as  the  voice  of  great  thunder;  and  the  voice  which  I  heard  was  as 
the  voice  of  harpers,  harping  upon  their  harps.  And  they  sang  as 
it  were  a  new  canticle,  and  no  man  could  say  the  canticle 
but  those  hundred  and  forty-four  thousand,  who  were  pur- 
chased from  the  earth.  And  I  beheld,  and  I  heard  the  voice 
of  many  angels  round  about  the  throne,  and  the  living  crea- 
tures, and  the  ancients,  and  the  number  of  them  was  thousands  of 
thousands.  And  every  creature  which  is  in  heaven,  and  on  the 
earth,  and  under  the  earth,  and  such  as  are  in  the  sea,  and  all  that 
are  in  them:  I  heard  all  saying:  '  To  Him  that  sitteth  on  the  throne 
and  to  the  Lamb,  benediction  and  honor  and  power  and  glory,  for- 
ever and  ever.'  And  the  four  living  creatures  said  Amen.  And  the 
four  and  twenty  Ancients  fell  down  upon  their  faces  and  adored 
Him  that  liveth  forever  and  ever." 

Music  is  the  language  of  heaven,  and  melody  is  the  joy  of  the  re- 
deemed children  of  God,  No  marvel,  therefore,  that  the  Church, 
God's  kingdom  upon  earth,  should  make  music  tributary  to  the  wor- 
ship she  renders  to  the  Almighty. 

"  The  songs  that  flowed  on  Zion's  hill 
Are  chanted  in  God's  temple  still, 
And  to  the  eye  of  faith  unfold 
The  glories  of  His  house  of  old." 


483 

From  the  dawn  of  Christianity,  music  had  a  share  in  her  impres- 
sive ritual,  and  for  many  centuries  it  remained  almost  the  exclusive 
property  of  the  Church,  at  least,  regarded  as  a  fine  aii;  and  what- 
ever beauty  or  grandeur  glows  in  the  great  masterpieces  of  later 
times,  they  owe  their  inspiration  and  charm  to  the  influence  of  the 
Church.  Her  Ambroses,  her  Gregorys,  her  Augustines,  assiduously 
cultivated  the  art  of  music,  and  employed  it  when  spreading  the  good 
tidings  of  the  Gospel,  as  an  efficacious  means  of  winning  souls  to 
God.  But  as  music,  like  every^  other  ai-t,  may  be  perverted,  she  al- 
ways strenuously  set  her  face  against  that  sensual  and  degi'ading 
music,  which,  departing  from  the  simplicity  of  Gregorian  or  Pales- 
tinian composition,  has  a  tendency  to  lower  rather  than  elevate  the 
Boul.  The  finest  productions  of  the  human  mind,  the  most  soul-fill- 
ing and  inspiring,  are  the  work  of  the  genius  of  the  children  of  the 
Catholic  Church.  Who  can  listen  unmoved  to  the  music  of  the 
Masses,  to  the  plaintive  strains  of  her  Stabat  Mater,  or  the  thrilling, 
awe-inspiring  tones  of  her  Dies  Ii'ae  thundering  from  the  majestic 
organ  in  the  startled  ears  of  men  the  righteous  rigor  of  God's  judg- 
ment, when 

"  Thftt  awful  day,  that  day  of  ire, 
Shall  wrap  the  Universe  in  fire. 
Foretold  by  seer  and  prophet's  lyre." 

**  It  rose,  that  chanted,  mournful  strain. 
Like  some  lone  spirit's  o'er  the  plain  ; 
'Twas  musical,  but  sadly  sweet, 
Such  as  when  winds  and  harpstrings  meet 
And  take  a  long,  unmeasured  tone,  ' 

To  mortal  minstrelsy  unknown." 

Listen  to  the  music  of  her  bells: 

"  Those  evening  bells,  those  evening  bells. 
How  many  a  tale  their  music  tells 
Of  youth  and  home  and  that  sweet  time. 
When  last  I  heard  their  soothing  chime. 

"Those  joyous  hours  are  passed  away, 
And  many  a  heart  that  then  was  gay. 
Within  the  tomb  now  darkly  dwells. 
And  hears  no  more  those  evening  bells. 


484 

"  And  so  'twill  be  wheii  I  am  gone, 
That  pealing  chime  will  still  ring  on, 
And  other  bards  will  walk  these  dells, 
And  sing  your  praise,  sweet  evening  bells." 

Is  there  any  sound  more  solemn  than  that  of  the  church  bell  ? 
How  its  tones  vibrate  through  the  chords  of  the  soul !  Tossed  about 
upon  the  sea,  the  sailor  boy  hears  in  fancy  the  sound  of  his  village 
bell;  and  if,  after  j^ears  of  travel,  he  returns  to  his  native  shore,  to^ 
find  the  old  faces  gone  and  the  loved  voices  silenced  in  the  tomb,  they 
all  spring  from  the  lonely  couch  of  death,  and  once  more  are  seen  the- 
pious  worshippers  wending  their  way  along  the  paths  and  across  the 
fields,  to  kneel  in  their  accustomed  places,  when  the  brazen-tongued 
monitor  announces  the  beginning  of  the  Holy  Mass. 

When  from  the  horizon  sunset's  glorious  hues  are  gradually  fading, 
and  Hesperus  shines  forth  within  the  heavens  as  if  it  were  the  lamp 
of  Nature's  sanctuary,  how  impressively  tolls  the  Angelus  bell  at  the 
twilight  hour,  as  unseen  choirs,  floating  on  viewless  wings,  blend 
their  voices  in  chanting  the  Doxology. 

*•'  Sitting  all  alone,  Sunday  afternoon, 
With  a  quiet  light  through  my  pleasant  room. 
How  the  silence  speaks!  What  a  world  it  tells. 
Or  perhaps  it  is  the  music  of  the  bells. 

"Yes,  yes,  'tis  the  bells!  List,  list,  how  they  ring. 
And  the  mellow  tones  rise,  as  the  brazen  tongues  sing; 
Some  of  them  loud,  and  some  of  them  low. 
Wide-mouthed  and  iron-throats,  hear  how  they  go. 
The  air  is  all  music,  and  far  in  the  sky, 
The  echoes  all  fainting  and  tremulous  die. 
Sitting  all  alone,  silence  in  the  air. 
Listening  to  my  heart,  little  silence  there; 
Only  in  whispers  are  voices  heard  there, — 
Sometimes  'tis  passion,  sometimes  'tis  prayer. 
Methinks  that  the  heart  is  a  belfry  of  chimes, 
Kung  by  good  angels,  or  bad  ones  betimes. 

"  For  mournful  music  floats,  then  soothing,  tender  notes, 
Again  a  tinkling  air,  like  laughter  of  a  fairy. 
Then  sobbing  tones. 
Like  broken  moans; 
A  minor  strain 
Like  Autumn  rain; 


485 

One  bell  sounds  a  knell, 
Then  silence. 
Sitting  all  alone,  listening  to  the  din, 
Church  bells  on  the  air,  heart  bells  within." 

If  there  is  anything  that  adds  solemnity  to  the  sacred  services  of 
religion,  it  is  the  voice  of  the  deep-toned,  resonant  organ,  speaking, 
as  it  were,  the  thunders  of  Jehovah  to  His  people. 

"  Over  his  keys  the  musing  organist, 
Beginning  doubtfully,  and  far  away, 
First  lets  his  fingers  wander  as  they  list. 
And  builds  a  bridge  from  dreamland  for  his  lay, 
Then  as  the  touch  of  his  loved  instrument 
Brings  hope  and  fervor,  nearer  draws  his  theme, 
First  guessed  by  faint  auroral  flashes  sent 
Along  the  wavering  vista  of  his  dream." 

Yes,  the  organ  is  like  the  voice  of  God  speaking  in  the  majesty  of 
its  power, — the  power  of  that  omnific  word  which  "  spake  and  there 
was  Hght,"  which  called  the  stars  together  and  they  obeyed  with 
trembling;  which  was  heard  amid  the  thunders  and  lightnings  of 
Sinai,  and  which,  as  it  once  poised  the  foundations  of  the  earth, 
hung  the  firmament  with  stars,  and  imparted  motion  to  the  machinery 
of  universal  nature:  so  shall  it  continue  to  govern  and  direct  all 
things  to  their  appointed  ends,  till  the  consummation  of  the  ages 
shall  be  fulfilled,  humanity  redeemed  to  God,  and  the  reign  of  Christ 
Jesus  be  established  forevermore  in  the  four-square  city  of  the 
heavenly  Jerusalem,  where  the  sound  of  joy  and  rapture  shall  in- 
cessantly ring  from  battlement  to  battlement  and  from  jasper  wall 
to  jasper  wall. 

That  reign  which  was  first  announced  by  the  song  of  salvation 
sung  by  celestial  choirs  as  it  broke  upon  the  Shepherd's  ears  upon 
the  hills  of  Bethlehem;  which  comprehends  the  vast  expanse  of  im- 
mensity; which  embraces  every  intelligence  and  every  grade  of 
being;  which  reaches  back  to  the  throne  of  the  Omnipotent  when 
the  sons  of  God  first  broke  forth  in  joyful  melody;  which  extends 
forward  through  all  the  circling  infinities — that  reign  wiU  never  end, 
but  will  only  put  on  the  bloom  and  freshness  of  perpetual  youth 
when  the  crowned  millions  of  the  blessed  shall  assemble  around  the 
throne  of  the  Last  Judgment  and  the  blast  of  the  archangel's  trum- 


'       486 

pet  shall  sound  thro  ugh  the  wide  universe  the  startling  tidings  that 
time  shall  be  no  more. 

Till  that  day  be  at  hand  the  dominions  of  the  Son  of  God  shall 
gain  new  acquisitions  and  constant  enlargement,  and  every  rising 
sun  that  gilds  the  heavens  shall  behold  some  new  trophy  laid  at  the 
feet  of  Him  who  died  amid  the  gloom  and  desolation  of  Calvary. 
Nations  now  groping  through  the  darkness  of  a  moral  midnight, 
and  struggling  for  the  coming  dawn,  shall  bask  in  the  sunlight  of 
the  Gospel,  which  shall  flash  its  lustre  on  their  minds  and  illumine 
the  path  of  humanity's  progress.  The  seeds  of  that  everlasting 
kingdom  which  were  sown  upon  the  hillsides  of  Judea  shall  bear 
fruit  in  every  land,  and  shall  grow  like  the  cedars  of  Lebanon  and 
the  tall  pines  of  Hermon,  till  the  tree  of  Christianity  spread  its 
branching  boughs  over  all  the  earth  and  all  the  generations  of  men 
be  gathered  together  in  one  faith  and  one  hope  of  eternal  life  and 
glory. 

Then  shall  the  glory  of  the  Gospel  shame  the  pride  of  earthly 
life  and  power,  and  the  empire  of  wickedness  shall  dissolve  before 
its  searching  and  consuming  rays.  And  the  subjects  of  Christ's 
kingdom  shall  flourish  as  the  hly  in  the  beauty  of  holiness  and  truth, 
and  shall  become  multitudinous  as  the  stars  of  heaven  or  the  sands 
upon  the  seashore.  And  the  blood-stained  banners  of  the  Crucified 
shall  be  upborne  by  invincible  Christian  legions  and  shall  bear  down 
with  irresistible  force  upon  the  dominions  of  the  Evil  One,  to  hasten 
the  triumph  of  that  day  when  the  strongholds  of  unbelief  shall 
crumble  under  the  chariot-wheels  of  God's  faithful  army,  and  "  all 
shall  know  the  Lord,  from  the  least  to  the  greatest."  And  all  the 
nations  of  the  earth  shall  sing  the  song  of  the  Messiah's  victory  and 
shall  proclaim  with  jubilation  that  the  Lion  of  the  Fold  of  Judah 
hath  conquered  fore  verm  ore.  And  the  Bride  of  Christ,  the  Church 
of  the  everlasting  God,  shall  praise  the  Lord  of  Life  "  with  hymns 
and  spiritual  canticles,"  and  shall  celebrate  "  with  psaltery  and  harp, 
with  timbrel  and  choir,  with  cymbal  and  organ "  the  final  accom- 
plishment of  redemption  and  crowning  triumph  of  God's  elect  in  the 
realms  of  eternal  joy.  Shining  in  the  majesty  of  her  moral  empire 
over  human  kind,  and  clothed  with  resplendent  garments  of  celestial 
beauty,  she  shall  march  on  with  ever-increasing  power  and  ever- 


487 

glowing  splendor  "  until  the  bursting  echoes  of  a  world  redeemed, 
borne  off  upon  the  gale  and  brought  up  upon  the  breeze,  shaU  re- 
vive the  recollection  and  realize  the  burden  of  the  hymn  of  Beth- 
lehem; for  the  shoutings  of  the  last  harvest  shall  be  the  song  that 
sowed  the  seed,  "  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,  and  on  earth  peace 
to  men  of  good  wilL" 


ADDRESSES 


ADDRESS  TO  YOUNG  MEN. 

DELIVERED  AT  ST.  PETER'S   CHURCH,   JERSEY   CITY. 

I  HAVE  the  honor  to  speak  to  you  to-night.  You  are  in  the  bloom 
of  youth,  and  the  flower  of  manhood.  You  are  at  a  most  interest- 
ing, and,  I  may  add,  a  most  critical  period  of  your  life; — at  what  I 
may  call  the  cross-roads  of  your  career.  The  education  of  Tele- 
machus  was  confided  to  the  goddess  of  Wisdom,  Minerva,  and  the 
goddess,  under  the  guise  of  an  old  man,  led  the  youth  from  land  to 
land  in  search  of  his  father,  teaching  him  meanwhile  the  divinest 
precepts.  At  length  they  reached  a  place  where  the  roads  met; 
then,  telling  Telemachus  that  he  must  now  choose  which  road  he 
should  follow,  and  suddenly  dropping  the  garb  of  the  old  man,  the 
goddess,  clothed  in  the  perfect  beauty  with  which  she  sprang  full- 
armed  from  the  brow  of  Jove,  stood  for  a  moment  before  the  en- 
tranced and  dazzled  gaze  of  the  youth,  and  then  vanished  forever 
from  his  view. 

This  myth,  my  friends,  can  teach  you  a  salutary  lesson.  Let  that 
junction  of  the  roads  serve  as  the  crisis  of  your  lives,  and  that  crisis, 
I  think,  has  come,  when  most  of  you  are  beginning,  or  about  to 
begin,  your  life-work  in  the  world.  Listen  to  me,  then,  while  in 
Christian  love,  I  say  a  few  things  of  interest  to  you. 

Let  me,  first  of  all,  impress  upon  you  the  needs  of  an  education 
to  fit  you  for  the  post  of  Hfe  you  occupy.  Cherish  not  the  vain  de- 
lusion that  has  blighted  in  the  bud  so  many  careers  full  of  rosy 
promise,  that  education  was  ended  with  school-days,  or  the  conclu- 
sion of  college  life.  Every  day  and  every  hour  of  life  should  carry 
to  the  harbor  of  the  mind  some  new  argosy  freighted  with  the 
golden  fleece  of  new-found  knowledge.    The  great  men  of  the  world 


492 

are  self-taught;  and  among  the  galaxies  of  genius  that  shed  light 
upon  both  hemispheres,  few,  indeed,  have  been  illumined  by  the  lore 
of  college  halls,  or  academies  of  learning.  Every  man  is  the  architect 
of  his  own  fortune,  and  practical  scholarship,  which  alone  can  win 
the  guerdon  of  success,  must  be  the  fruit  of  living,  personal  experi- 
ence. 

While  the  difficulties  of  educ^.tion  are  great,  and  its  wants  in- 
numerable, certain  rules  are  readily  at  hand  which  may  be  an  infal- 
lible guide  to  all  in  work  which  none  may  decline. 

Variety  of  character  is  as  great  as  that  of  countenance,  and  suc- 
cessful education  consists  in  the  adaptation  of  suitable  influences  to 
mould  such  character  and  appropriate  knowledge  to  direct  it.  Study, 
then,  study  deeply  and  exhaustively  your  own  character,  and  find 
the  influences  that  are  beneficial;  select  your  life-work  and  seek  un- 
tiringly the  knowledge  that  befits  you  to  fulfill  it. 

Nothing  can  be  accomplished  without  adherence  to  principles  that 
shall  be  uncompromising;  principles  that  will  not  bend,  and  cannot 
be  contravened.  Such  principles  are  based  on  truth.  Truth,  then, 
must  be  the  goal  of  every  aspiration.  Truth  is  the  philosopher's 
stone  you  seek.  Truth  is  the  only  alchemy  that  transmutes  with 
the  gold-bright  light  of  heaven,  the  rayless  night  of  human  life. 
Truth  cannot  be  belied,  beheaded,  or  crucified;  she  is  unconquerable 
as  the  hills;  the  eternal  years  of  God  are  hers.  She  glistens  like  the 
dewdrop;  she  glows  like  a  star;  she  sparkles  as  a  fountain;  she 
rushes  like  a  river;  she  sings  like  an  angel,  and  charms  like  a  song 
from  far-off  spheres,  where  seraphs  make  divinely  vocal  the  green 
hills  and  verdurous  valleys  of  the  land  of  sempiternal  light.  Learn 
to  know  the  truth;  hug  it  to  your  hearts;  press  it  into  the  fibres  of 
your  being;  wreathe  it  around  your  life;  it  alone  has  power  to  heal, 
to  help,  and  to  save.  "The  truth  shall  make  you  free  ";  free  with 
the  freedom  wherewith  Christ  has  made  you  free. 

Education  must  be  true.  Though  physical  and  intellectual  edu- 
cation are  needful,  moral  education  must  hold  the  first  place,  for  the 
body,  on  which  depend  the  former,  will  wilt  and  wither  and  mingle 
with  the  dust;  but  moral  uplifting  is  required,  that  whenever  this 
frail  tenement  shall  sink  and  become  a  brother  to  the  clod,  the  soul 
may  be  ready  for  reception  in  that  "  house  eternal  in  the  heavens, 
that  home  not  made  by  hands."    When  the  heart  and  the  head  are 


493 

alike  calling  for  instruction,  let  the  heart  have  the  first  lesson,  that  it 
may  the  better  guide  and  steady  the  giddiness  of  the  head. 

The  principles  of  benevolence,  integrity,  and  humility, — that 
humility  which  has  much  to  learn  and  is  not  incompatible  with  in- 
dependence and  manly  self-respect, — should  be  ever  kept  in  view, 
and  every  effort  should  be  made  to  raise  the  character  to  that  stand- 
ard. I  told  you  you  were  made  for  truth;  therefore,  you  must  be 
humble,  for  humility  is  truth.  Shun  pride.  Pride  is  the  fume  of 
mean  and  selfish  hearts.  Pride  is  the  vice  of  fools,  and  the  cap- 
sheaf  of  their  folly.  "  Pride  goeth  before  a  fall."  "  Every  man  that 
humbleth  himself  shall  be  exalted,  and  that  exalteth  himself  shall  be 
humbled."  Said  the  proud  king  of  Babylon  in  his  heart:  "I  will 
exalt  my  throne  above  the  stars  of  God;  I  will  lift  myself  above  the 
heights  of  the  clouds;  I  will  sit  on  the  mountain  of  the  covenant  on 
the  side  of  the  north,  and  I  will  be  like  unto  the  Most  High  God." 
Yain  and  impious,  O  Lucifer,  thy  boast.  Thy  pride  shall  be  low- 
ered into  heU.  Thou  shalt  be  pulled  down  from  thy  towering  great- 
ness. The  name  of  Babylon  shall  be  blotted  out.  Under  thee  the 
moth  shall  be  strewn,  and  the  worms  shall  be  thy  covering. 

A  spotless  hly,  by  the  streamlet's  side,  bathed  its  snowy  petals  in 
the  morning  dew,  and  laughed  with  joy  when  courted  by  the  sum- 
mer's sun.  Turning  her  glorious  eyes  upon  her  radiant  form,  she 
cried:  "How  beautiful  am  I  above  all  I  see  around  me.  Peerless 
and  unrivalled,  I  shall  bloom  alone.  The  cold  and  silent  dew  I  shall 
expel  from  my  embrace,  and  the  red-faced  sun  I  shall  not  suffer  to 
touch  my  virgin  brow."  Poor,  foolish  lily;  thou  shalt  perish  of  thy 
pride.  For  the  dew  thou  sipped  at  morning,  and  the  sun  thou 
kissed  at  noon,  were  the  nectar  of*  thy  life,  and  now  that  these  are 
gone,  pale  lily,  thou  shalt  languish,  thy  beauty  shall  fade  fast,  and 
the  number  of  thy  days  is  cast,  for  thou  art  doomed  to  die. 

Man  is  such  a  foolish  flower.  Glowing  with  the  beauty  which 
God's  grace  engrafts  upon  his  soul,  he  swells  with  pride  against  his 
Maker,  and  in  an  instant  he  falls  from  his  estate — falls 

"  Like  the  angels,  from  Heaven  to  Hell." 

Fix  you  principles,  then,  my  friends,  for  principles  make  character, 
character  makes  life,  and  life  makes  the  measure  of  being  and  beati- 
tude.   The  true  end  of  life  is  to  know  the  life  that  never  ends.    You 


494 

must  make  your  own  heaven,  or  dig  your  own  hell.  But  when  we 
reflect  that  the  natural  tendency  of  our  steps  is  perverse,  to  a  marvel; 
— that  the  very  goodness  we  boast,  is  often  the  result  of  accident 
rather  than  right  purpose;  that  self-complacency  and  the  world's 
opinion  are  often  the  foundation  of  our  most  applauded  actions,  then 
unwavering  principle  becomes  the  only  hope,  the  bower-anchor  of 
the  soul  to  hold  it  for  virtue,  peace,  and  heaven.  Without  principle 
conscience  will  be  dead,  or  if  alive,  its  life  will  be  but  languid,  and 
its  voice  hushed.  The  sway  of  passion;  the  bias  of  prejudice;  the 
electric  fire  of  excitement,  or  the  power  of  evil  influence,  will  be  so 
many  refluent  currents  carrying  the  soul  down  the  stream  that  leads 
to  shipwreck  and  disaster.  Even  in  life's  springtime,  when  the 
heart  is  still  fresh  and  kind,  forgotten  will  be  the  fervency  of  a 
father's  benediction  and  the  unutterable  yearnings  of  a  mother's 
love.  There  is  no  security  for  the  rectitude  of  conduct,  to  one  who 
has  no  fixed  principle — no  unvarying  standard,  no  touchstone  of 
truth  and  duty. 

Duty,  do  I  say  ?  What  is  duty  ?  W^hat  is  it  but  what  God  has 
commanded,  and  it  is  duty  because  He  has  commanded  it.  And 
what  has  He  commanded  ?  To  be  true  to  our  nature,  and  to  our- 
selves, to  our  fellows,  to  our  God.  Duty,  then,  is  God's  will  work- 
ing in  our  lives.  Duty  is  in  being  that  which  God  has  made  us  to 
be, — sharers  of  His  divine  Sonship,  bearers  of  His  image,  wearers 
of  His  crown. 

The  idea  of  duty  is  inherent  in  our  being — part  of  our  own  nature. 
From  that  idea  we  can  never  entirely  escape,  since  we  can  never 
wholly  unmake  ourselves.  That  idea  is  in  us  and  about  us,  above 
us  and  below;  it  follows  us  from  the  cradle  to  the  tomb,  aye,  and 
even  beyond  the  star-emblazoned  battlements  above,  where  duty  is 
discharged  in  love  supreme  and  everlasting. 

Duty  is  the  law  of  life,  the  spring  of  action,  the  end  of  man  and 
the  measure  of  reward.  Duty  makes  the  man;  shapes  the  saint, 
carves  out  the  hero,  and  glorifies  humanity. 

Cultivate  true  gentility  of  heart;  let  the  heart  be  right,  and  the 
conduct  cannot  be  far  wrong.  There  is  a  gentility  that  is  only  skin- 
deep;  fair  and  smooth  without,  but  within  all  full  of  moral  mildew. 
It  is  an  affection  of  pre-eminence,  begotten  of  imbecility  and 
self-conceit,  and  falsely  christened  gentility.     It  mistakes  the  shell 


495 

for  the  kernel;  the  shadow  for  the  substance;  the  semblance  for  the 
reality.  It  is  a  parlor  plant,  reared  in  a.  scented  atmosphere,  watered 
with  maidens'  tears,  and  sunned  in  virgins'  smiles.  Trained  under 
chosen  tutors,  it  swells  and  tumefies  till  it  fancies  itself  made  of 
porcelain  pottery,  while  the  rest  of  mankind  is  made  of  the  common 
clay.  It  is  the  mere  bodying  forth  of  a  principle — the  outgrowth  of 
a  spirit  which  says  to  one's  brother:  "Stand  by,  for  I  am  better 
than  thou." 

I  do  not  decry  true  gentiHty,  founded  on  grace  of  spiiit  and  ele- 
gance of  manners,  and  proceeding  from  right  motives;  nor  do  I 
deny  the  utility  and  necessity  of  distinctions  in  society.  I  am  no 
iconoclast,  no  leveller,  no  apostle  of  absolute  equahty.  But  while  we 
pay  due  attention,  and  concede  aU  allowaftice  to  the  claims  of  those 
gradations  and  differences  which  are  inherent  in  the  constitution  of 
society,  it  is  well  to  call  to  mind  the  time  when  all  arbitrary  and 
accidental  distinctions  shall  cease  and  be  forgotten,  when  we  shall 
dwell  in  a  society  where  honor  shall  be  theirs  to  whom  the  honor 
belongs. 

•  Young  gentlemen,  you  have  escaped  from  your  nonage,  and  many 
of  you  are  soon  to  go  out  from  the  guidance  you  found  under  the 
mantle  of  a  mother's  kindness,  and  under  the  shelter  of  a  father's 
hand.  When  you  leave  the  paternal  roof  you  shall  find  yourself  in 
a  peculiar,  and  perhaps  a  painful  situation.  Like  a  cloud-break  in 
a  summer  sky,  the  world  will  burst  upon  you  with  cyclonic  sudden- 
ness and  fury.  It  is  a  deceptive  guide.  It  dazzles,  it  captivates,  it 
charms;  it  cannot  make  you  happy.  You  cannot  gather  grapes  of 
thorns,  nor  figs  of  thistles.  But  beware !  the  world  is  a  specious 
liar,  and  an  arrant  hypocrite.  Its  goods  contain  not  the  worth  they 
show;  bright  and  beautiful  to  the  eye,  they,  like  dead  sea  fruit, 
turn  to  ashes  on  the  lips.  Every  rose  holds  its  hidden  thorn;  every 
sweet  its  bitter;  every  honey-bee  its  sting.  You  are  young;  you  are 
ardent;  you  are  sanguine  and  impressionable;  you  are  the  kind  of 
which  dupes  and  gudgeons  are  made.  You  have  been  long  at  school; 
or  have  hved  in  comparative  retirement  and  had  little  intercourse 
with  others.  You  are  unpracticed  in  the  ways  of  the  world.  Future 
character  and  destiny  will  depend  on  first  impressions  and  earliest 
influences.  Some  of  the  most  distinguished  men  of  Church  and 
State  stood  once,  like  you,  at  the  cross-roads  of  life,  and  the  type  of 


496 

their  character  was  formed  by  causes  which  were  silent  and  un- 
observed. No  human  arithmetic  can  calculate  the  responsibility 
that  rests  upon  you  at  the  present  period  of  your  journey. 

Young  men,  ahoy !  the  rapids  are  below  you.  Steer  steady,  pull 
a  strong  oar,  bend  down  to  the  work,  or  the  life-boat  of  your  soul, 
like  a  saiUess  ship  upon  the  vast  sea  of  God's  grace,  will  be  dashed 
to  fragments  upon  the  merciless  rocks  and  quicksands  of  tempta- 
tion. "  He  that  loveth  danger  shall  perish  therein."  Shun  tempta- 
tions lest  they  lead  you  into  folly;  folly  into  crime;  crime  into  ruin, 
destruction,  irrecoverable,  unchangeable,  eternal. 

Fear  not  if  Christ  be  with  you,  for  Christ  is  light  and  life  and 
hope  to  them  that  fear  Him.  If  Christ  be  for  us,  who  shall  stand 
against  us  ?  God  and  on&  make  a  majority.  Christ  is  the  power  of 
God  unto  salvation.  High  above  the  lashings  of  the  tempest,  and 
the  roar  of  the  storm,  comes  the  voice  of  Him  who  calleth  through 
the  long  lapse  of  ages,  shriU,  sharp,  electric,  as  of  yore,  saying  to  the 
winds  and  the  waves — Peace !  be  stiU ! 

Be  sober  and  watch.  Inscribe  sobriety  and  temperance  upon 
your  banners,  and  you  shall  march  the  highway  of  success.  I  hate 
fanaticism  and  hypocrisy,  but  I  look  on  the  wine-cup  as  the  goblet 
of  hell  filled  with  the  potion  of  perdition.  It  has  wrecked  more 
lives,  blighted  more  homes,  broken  more  hearts,  "than  wars  or 
women  have." 

The  Angel  of  Night  looked  down  upon  the  silent  streets  of  a 
great  city.  By  the  wayside  in  a  narrow,  desolate  alley,  lay  the 
wreck  of  a  human  being,  once  bearing  the  image  of  God,  now  de- 
graded and  lost,  stamped  with  the  impress  of  a  demon.  Bending 
over  him  stood  the  baleful  spirit  who  had  been  his  tempter,  and 
who  now  rejoiced  in  the  anticipation  of  his  final  triumph.  With 
wild  exultation  he  exclaimed:  "The  work  is  done.  A  star  of  the 
first  magnitude  is  fallen;  but  Lucifer,  son  of  the  morning,  fell,  and 
he,  too,  has  fallen.  What  an  angel  he  might  have  made;  he  would 
have  added  lustre  to  the  white-robed  host,  but  he  wiU  never  join 
them  now — aha !  aha !  Well  do  I  remember  when  I  first  gave  him 
the  bright  wine-cup  and  bade  him  drink  and  be  merry.  I  told  him 
it  would  gladden  his  heart,  give  color  to  his  cheeks,  elasticity  to  his 
steps,  and  vivacity  and  inspiration  to  his  genius.  His  father  bid 
him  beware, — his  mother  prayed  for  him;  but  I  drew  him  on  faster 


497 

and  faster  into  that  vortex  where  he  must  inevitably  sink.  Ah ! 
how  I  rejoiced  when  the  day  came  that  I  guided  his  trembhng  pen 
as  he  wrote,  *  Mother,  my  mother,  cease  to  pray  for  me,  for  thy 
doomed  accursed  child.'  How  quickly  she  faded  away  like  a  snow 
wreath,  and  even  while  she  passed  to  the  pearly  gates  of  God's  holy 
city,  the  consciousness  of  his  own  dark  destiny  came  over  him  like  a 
sea,  and  he  groaned  in  wretchedness  unutterable.  'There  is  no 
change  for  me,'  he  said.  '  I  weary  myself  looking  forward  to  ages 
yet  to  come  and  with  tasking  this  immortal  mind  to  conceive  of  an 
eternity.  I  see  no  end;  no  gleam  of  hope;  my  thoughts,  unsatisfied, 
return  upon  themselves,  and  oh !  must  this  be  forever  ? '  " 

The  Angel  of  Death  passed  upon  the  night  wind.  The  silver 
cord  was  loosed,  the  golden  bowl  was  broken,  the  pitcher  was  shat- 
tered at  the  fountain,  and  the  wheel  broken  at  the  cistern.  The 
demon  again  stood  by  his  victim,  and  as  he  wove  for  him  a  winding- 
sheet  of  drifting  snow,  his  laugh  of  exultation  rose  out  upon  the 
storm :— "  Aha !  he  is  mine  forever  and  forever." 

Young  men,  I  charge  you,  fling  away  ambition.  By  ambition  I 
do  not  mean  the  laudable  desire  to  accomphsh  something  note- 
worthy in  the  walks  of  life,  nor  the  effort  to  leave  behind  a  name 
that  shall  be  held  in  reverence  for  shining  service  to  humanity.  But 
I  mean  that  vain  and  vaulting  ambition,  that  selfish  and  sordid  seek- 
ing for  applause  which  is  bought  so  often  at  the  expense  of  others, 
and  which  does  not  hesitate  to  ruin  and  destroy  that  it  may  rule  and 
reign.  The  hard  conditions  of  life  to-day,  the  closeness  of  com- 
petition in  every  art  and  trade,  the  spirit  of  over-reaching  and  ex- 
celling that  obtains,  intensify  the  struggle,  and  too  often  call  forth 
those  baser  faculties  of  craft,  deceit,  and  dupHcity,  which  govern  so 
many  of  the  sons  of  Adam. 

Much  has  been  said  of  the  spirit  of  enterprise  that  is  abroad 
through  our  land,  and  in  the  opinion  of  many  it  is  the  chief  glory  of 
the  age.  It  is  loudly  hailed  by  them  as  convincing  proof  that  the 
world  is  in  full  march  towards  the  high  end  of  its  existence.  But 
this  universal  motion;  this  incessant  agitation;  this  independence  of 
thought  and  casting  of  ancient  opinions  and  authority;  in  fine,  this 
determination  to  know,  and  this  enlargement  of  mind  which  affects 
that  we  must  understand  all  things  for  ourselves,  and  no  longer  jog 
round  in  the  same  dull  circle  that  our  fathers  did,— all  this  is  hailed 
32 


498 

as  the  harbinger  of  a  new  and  glorious  era  in  the  history  of 
humanity.  I  hope  it  may  be  so,  but  I  have  my  fears.  Against  the 
spirit  of  enterprise,  when  rightly  directed  and  controlled,  I  have  no 
demurrance  to  make,  but  only  praise  to  bestow.  It  is  the  natural 
activity  of  man  and  ought  not  to  be  suppressed.  But  there  is  in 
man  a  principle  of  permanence  as  well  as  progress.  The  mind  can- 
not throw  itself  forward  till  it  has  some  vantage  ground,  some  stand- 
point from  which  to  make  the  effort.  No  man  can  leap  without  a 
foothold.  Where  no  chance  is  allowed  for  the  mind  to  survey  and 
collect  its  forces  and  gather  new  strength,  serious  evils  must  follow  of 
necessity.  Keason  runs  riot  when  it  loses  the  ballast  of  authority. 
The  result  is  constant  change,  but  we  cannot  live  in  constant  motion 
— we  need  rest  as  well  as  exercise. 

But  the  spirit  of  enterprise  of  which  I  speak  seems  to  be  passing 
by  rapid  transition  into  a  mere  passion  for  change — a  morbid  craving 
for  novelty.  Its  effect  has  been  to  divert  men's  attention  from  those 
social,  moral,  and  religious  principles  which  constitute  the  true 
ground  of  happiness,  and  to  direct  it  towards  outward  circumstances 
and  to  turn  all  their  powers  and  energies  towards  the  attainment  of 
those  things  which  win  distinction  in  this  world.  There  is  a  rush 
for  fortune  and  for  fame;  a  growing  contempt  for  the  old,  and  a 
strange  thirsting  for  the  new;  for  distinction,  now  it  seems,  is  found 
in  things  unheard,  unseen  before,  and  men  seek  to  falsify  the  sage 
who  fancied  there  was  nothing  new  beneath  the  sun.  Ah !  but  what 
is  fame  ?    Is  it  a  name  written  on  a  monument  ? 

The  battle-men  come  with  sandals  of  iron  and  mark  their  path- 
way with  fire  and  slaughter,  and  when  the  work  of  carnage  is  done, 
they  chisel  their  own  names  on  lofty  pillars,  fondly  dreaming  such 
trophies  to  be  fame.  But  the  ages  slowly  creep  upon  the  conqueror's 
heel,  and  the  grass  grows  upon  his  tomb,  and  like  surges  that 
shriek  to  the  storm,  the  waves  of  time  beat  upon  the  granite  shaft 
and  it  crumbles  to  the  dust,  and  the  names  of  the  world's  proudest 
heroes  fade  from  the  memory  of  man. 

Make  for  yourselves  a  fame  that  shall  flourish  forever;  write  your 
names  in  the  Book  of  Life,  and  see  that  your  deeds  are  cherished  in 
the  all-retaining  memory  of  God. 


II. 

ADDRESS  ON  THE  DAY  OF  THE  DEDICATION  OF  A 
CHAPEL  AND  ACADEMY. 

DELIVERED  AT  THE  OPENING  OF  ST.   ALOYSIUS  ACADEMY, 
JERSEY   CITY,   N.   J. 

A  VERY  simple  but  agreeable  function  falls  to  my  part  in  the  ser- 
vice of  this  day.  I  am  here,  most  joyfully,  at  the  call  of  those  re- 
ligious who  rule  the  admirable  institution  in  which  we  are  assembled 
to  give  voice  to  the  gratitude  that  fills  their  souls  upon  this  hallowed 
<iay — gratitude,  the  expression  of  which  is  more  gracefuUy  left  to 
•others  than  uttered  by  themselves. 

While,  however,  the  chief  part  of  my  performance  is  to  tender  the 
profound  thanks  of  the  good  Sisters  to  those  numerous  benefactors 
whose  golden  generosity  has  enabled  them  to  raise  this  beautiful 
tabernacle  to  the  God  of  hosts,  I  stiU  believe  I  shall  not  ti'espass  upon 
the  limits  of  your  patience,  nor  the  bounds  of  propriety  by  some 
passing  reference  to  those  thoughts  which  naturally  suggest  them- 
selves upon  this  interesting  occasion. 

What  special  significance  has  the  dedication  of  a  chapel  in  an  in- 
stitution of  learning,  such  as  that  presided  over  by  those  holy  women 
who  have  devoted  the  undivided  loyalty  of  their  hearts  and  the 
unabated  vigor  of  their  intellects  to  the  education  of  the  children  of 
this  city  ?  It  means,  my  friends,  the  triumph  and  vindication  of 
true  Christian  training  over  that  spurious  system  which  relegates 
religion  to  the  background  and  eliminates  the  idea  of  God  from  the 
curriculum  of  study.  It  means  the  solemn  nuptials,  the  inseparable 
marriage  of  religion  and  culture,  and  it  proclaims  the  God-sent 
truth  that  education,  in  its  rightful  acceptation,  can  have  no  place  in 
any  system  of  training  which  is  not  moulded  by  the  hand  of  re- 
ligion and  guided  by  the  Spirit  of  God. 


600 

The  Spirit  of  God  and  the  spirit  of  the  age  are  too  often  found, 
alas !  to  stand  in  opposition  and  in  deadly  conflict.  The  spirit  of 
the  present  age,  with  regret  be  it  told,  is,  in  many  respects,  foreign 
to  the  spirit  of  the  Gospel.  To  measure  the  pathway  of  the  sun  in 
the  heavens;  to  trace  the  courses  of  the  stars;  to  read  the  secrets  of 
the  sea  and  explore  the  wonders  of  the  under  world;  to  construct 
shining  monuments  of  material  prosperity,  which  shall  defy  the 
tooth  of  time  and  mock  the  inroads  of  decay,  this,  my  friends,  is  the 
ruling  ambition  of  the  age  and  the  dominant  tendency  of  the  times 
in  which  we  flourish.  Governed  by  this  gross  desire,  and  ab- 
sorbed by  these  material  pursuits,  the  sons  of  men  have  closed  their 
eyes  to  those  nobler  aims  and  lofty  spiritual  concerns  which  alone 
are  worthy  the  consideration  of  creatures  whom  God  has  gifted 
with  the  royal  faculty  of  understanding,  the  heaven-born  light  of 
intelligence.  Thus  plunging  downward  in  their  mad  career  they 
find,  too  late,  alas !  like  that  abandoned  genius  whose  mind  was  a 
garden  of  mental  luxuriance  and  moral  desolation,  and  who  was 
himself  the  most  sorrowful  example  of  the  condition  he  so  feelingly 
described,  that 

"  The  magnet  of  their  course  is  gone,  or  only  points  in  vain, 
The  shore  to  which  their  shivered  sail  can  never  stretch  again." 

• 
When  morality  is  derived  from  knowledge  and  instruction;  when  the 
Gospel  no  longer  sheds  its  gladdening  and  enlivening  rays  on  the 
creations  of  the  mind;  when  art  seeks  no  inspiration  from  the  genius 
of  religion,  and  science  wanders  in  a  sombre  sphere  where  the  star 
of  revelation  never  shines;  when  men  erase  the  name  of  God  from 
the  page  of  history,  and  strive,  though  impotently,  to  blot  out  His 
finger-marks  upon  the  fair  face  of  nature,  what  result  shall  reason, 
fear  and  wisdom  apprehend,  but  the  downfall  of  all  human  hopes, 
the  blighting  of  those  blessings  upon  which  is  founded  the  only  fe- 
licity that  can  enhance  the  value  of  life  and  dignify  the  nobility  of 
living  upon  earth. 

As  a  perpetual  protest  against  those  deluded  teachers  who  would 
exclude  religion  from  the  schoolroom  and  banish  God  far  from  the 
realm  of  human  learning,  this  chapel  has  been  erected  and  this  day 
dedicated  to  the  God  of  our  fathers  and  the  God  of  our  children. 

The  pious  educators  of  our  youth,  who  with  infinite  pains  and 


501 

labor  have  reared  this  noble  academy,  to  promote  the  interests  of 
a  higher  education,  a  broader  and  deeper  culture  for  the  rising  gen- 
eration, are  not  insensible  to  the  fact,  that  whatever  we  glory  in 
to-day,  whether  in  refined  taste,  elevated  morals,  or  luminous  intel- 
ligence, springs  from  the  garden  of  Christianity,  as  flowers  from  their 
native  soil. 

Christianity,  my  friends,  is  the  light  of  the  world.  Like  the  sun 
of  morning  falling  on  some  mighty  city,  and  gilding  roof  and  battle- 
ment and  spire  with  its  burning  rays,  but  deepening  by  contrast  the 
obscure  alley  and  the  dark  dens  of  vice  and  profligacy;  even  so  has 
Ohristianity  shed  its  brilliant  beams  on  the  citadels  of  virtuous  civ- 
ilization, and  cast  into  the  gloomy  shades  of  contempt  and  abhor- 
rence whatever  of  foul  or  base  has  defiled  the  temple  of  human  his- 
toiy.  All  that  is  now  cheering  to  the  eye  or  attractive  to  the  taste 
owes  its  origin  and  its  advancement  to  the  benign  influence  of  Chris- 
tianity. Such  has  been  its  presaging  brightness;  the  twilight  of  its 
opening  day;  but  what  then  shall  it  be  and  what  appearance  will  our 
world  put  on  when  it  has  reached  its  f  uU-orbed  splendor  ?  The  past 
is  the  best  guarantee  for  the  future ;  and  how  many  of  those  wondrous 
temples  of  the  mind  upon  which  we  plume  ourselves  so  much,  do  we 
owe  to  an  influence,  of  which  in  this  age  of  pre-eminent  achievement, 
we  little  suspect,  or  even  dream  ?  Literatui'e  has,  childlike,  sat  at 
her  feet  and  learned  her  noblest  lessons.  Literature  was  ever  the 
disciple  of  Christianity.  Every  truth  that  enriches  her  broad  do- 
main, every  principle  of  philosophy  which  is  not  the  effusion  of 
some  dream-sick  fancy,  she  has  caught  from  the  reflected  rays  of 
revelation;  and  all  those  finer  feehngs  and  ennobling  sentiments, 
that,  like  so  many  blessed  stars,  cluster  round  the  great  central  truth 
of  immortality,  are  the  boon  which  Christianity  has  bestowed  upon 
her  handmaiden  and  her  daughter.  Art  and  science  have  borrowed 
their  brightest  hues  from  the  genial  glow  of  faith's  holy  fire,  and 
never  did  the  sculptor's  chisel  draw  life  and  beauty  from  the  cold 
and  deathless  marble,  save  when  religion  warmed  his  heart  and  hand, 
and  never  did  the  painter  make  the  silent  canvas  speak,  but  when  he 
dipped  his  pencil  in  the  glowing  tints  of  heaven.  In  the  cradle  of 
Christianity  charity  and  benevolence  had  their  birth,and  she  is  the  pro- 
lific parent  of  every  idea  that  enlightened  humanity,  and  every  prin- 
vciple  that  has  yielded  service  to  the  race.  Rectitude  of  conduct,  integ- 


502 

rity  of  life,  nobility  of  character,  the  high  ideal,  the  lofty  aspiration, 
the  purifying  and  ennobling  sentiment,  and  all  that  sweetens  the  cup 
of  human  existence  and  scatters  flowers  on  the  path  of  life,  are  born 
of  her  genius  and  moulded  by  her  influence. 

Behold,  then,  why  here  in  this  institution  of  learning,  the  sanc- 
tuary and  the  altar  stand  out  in  bold  relief  by  the  side  of  the  class- 
room and  the  study  hall.  When  the  matin  chimes  announce  the 
dawning  of  the  day,  the  students  shall  come  here  to  prefer  their  silent 
prayer  in  invoking  the  favoring  smiles  of  Providence  upon  their  labors, 
and  when  their  tasks  are  done,  here  they  shall  assemble  to  chant  their 
Maker's  praise,  and  thank  Him  for  the  successes,  wherewith  He  has 
crowned  their  toil.  God  is  with  them  here;  He  reigns  among  them 
by  that  wisdom,  and  rules  them  by  that  light,  which  cometh  from 
above.  Here  the  star  of  religion  shines  upon  them,  and  they  cannot 
go  astray;  for  unto  them  a  path  shall  be  opened,  and  a  way  where- 
in to  walk,  and  it  shall  be  called  a  straight  way  so  that  fools  shall 
not  err  therein. 

I  congratulate  the  Sisters  of  Charity  upon  the  consummation  of 
their  work.  This  is  a  joyous  day  for  them,  or  rather  a  red-letter  day 
in  a  calendar  of  glory.  I  bid  them  joy  to-day.  They  have  toiled 
long  and  wearily;  they  have  persevered  most  patiently,  and  they 
have  crowned  their  arduous  labors  with  the  bright  garland  of  suc- 
cess. The  material  edifice  is  finished;  the  mental  fabric  will  soon 
begin  to  rise  in  beautiful  proportions  and  grandeur  of  outline.  In 
this  nursery  of  education  shall  be  trained  many  fresh  young  hearts, 
to  virtue  and  to  heaven;  and  as  the  plant  receives  form  and  character 
from  the  skies  above  and  the  air  around,  so  shall  they  go  forth  from 
the  religious  atmosphere  of  this  house,  girded  with  the  armor  of 
proof,  bearing  a  two-edged  sword,  with  one  edge  to  put  to  flight  the 
temptations  of  prosperity,  and  with  the  other  to  meet  and  conquer 
the  trials  of  sorrow  and  affliction. 

I  felicitate  the  Sisters,  then,  as  the  true  conservators  of  Christian 
education.  I  honor  them  as  the  glory  of  their  sex,  the  queens  of  so- 
ciety in  every  work  of  piety  and  benevolence,  but  I  tell  them  that 
they  do  a  still  grander  service  to  humanity  in  keeping  alive  and  act- 
ive that  system  of  instruction  which  God  alone  can  inspire  and  Cath- 
olicity maintain.     "I  thank  God,"  says  the  celebrated  Dr.  Hodge,, 


503 

of  Princeton,  "  that  He  has  preserved  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  in 
America  to-day  true  to  that  theory  of  education,  upon  which  our 
fathers  founded  the  public  schools  of  the  nation,  and  which  has 
been  so  madly  perverted."  Yes,  Dr.  Hodge  ;  and  why  should  it  be 
otherwise?  Who  can  teach  by  divine  authority  but  the  Catholic 
Church? 


III. 

ADDRESS     TO     YOUNG     LADIES     OJST     GRADUA- 
TIONS"   DAY. 

DELIVERED   AT  JACOBS'  THEATRE,  HOBOKEIS^,  N.   J. 

Young  Ladies  : 

It  would  task  the  imagination  to  conceive  a  position  more  honor- 
able than  that  which  falls  to  you  on  this  felicitous  occasion.  Your 
fellings  at  this  hour  are  those  of  rapture  and  delight.  I  almost 
envy  you  your  joy.  You  have  parted  with  the  past,  and  your  eyes 
are  towards  the  future.  Your  dreams  and  expectations  are  big  with 
hope  and  buoyant  with  rosy  promise.  You  are  young — ^you  are  just 
entering  the  happy  morning  of  life,  and  with  exultant  hearts  are 
looking  forward  to  the  career  that  lies  before  you.  You  are  felici- 
tating yourselves  upon  a  period  of  past  successful  toil.  And  you 
do  weU.  You  have  undergone  your  probation,  have  met  the  final 
ordeal  of  your  academic  course,  and  acquitted  yourselves  with  credit 
to  the  Sisters  and  honor  to  the  institution  whose  children  you  are. 
The  crowns  you  have  received,  the  prizes  you  have  won,  the  medals 
you  have  taken — all  bespeak  your  assiduity  and  your  acquirements, 
and  give  you  the  right  henceforth  to  be  numbered  among  the 
scholars  of  the  land. 

You  ought  to  be — I  am  sure  you  are — I  see  it  in  your  glowing 
faces — supremely  proud  and  happy. 

All  here  present  are  your  friends.  Those  who  love  you  as  the 
apple  of  their  eye,  as  the  tendrils  of  their  hearts — those  who  love 
you  with  all  the  fidelity  of  home  and  the  ties  of  kindred,  are  here  to 
enhance,  if  possible,  the  gladness  of  this  occasion. 

Here,  too,  are  those  faithful  Sisters, — consecrated  to  their  task, — 
who  have  given  the  undivided  loyalty  of  their  hearts,  and  the  undi- 


505 

vided  vigor  of  their  intellects,  to  the  work  of  education, — ^here  are  they 
who  have  watched  over  your  advancement  with  tireless  concern, 
with  tender  solicitude  and  anxious  care;  here  they  are  to  show  their 
fidehty  to  the  end. 

All  are  to  give  you  honor,  to  felicitate  you,  to  tender  you  their 
fervent  congratulations,  and  to  indulge  the  pleasing  hope  that  the 
successes  which  crown  your  academic  course  are  only  an  earnest,  a 
foreglow,  of  the  greater  triumphs  that  await  you  in  the  broader 
fields  of  activity,  in  the  great  arena  of  life,  upon  which  you  are  so 
soon  to  enter. 

I  predict,  I  asseverate,  you  will  not  soon  forget  this  night. 

Other  triumphs,  I  hope,  will  await  you — future  efforts,  I  trust, 
will  be  crowned  with  the  shining  signet  of  success — you  will  become 
happy,  prosperous,  and  honored;  or  though,  God  forfend,  adverse 
fortune  will  greet  you  as  you  descend  through  the  vaUey  of  the 
years;  yet  whether  you  tread  the  thorny  paths  of  adversity  or  walk 
the  smiling  fields  of  prosperity,  whether  in  joy  and  exultation,  in 
sadness  and  depression,  the  memories  of  this  night  will  steal  back 
upon  you — the  trials  and  triumphs  of  the  old  days  will  rise  in  the 
path  of  recollection,  and  with  them,  perhaps,  may  also  come  a  feel- 
ing— how  shall  I  describe  it — "  a  feeling  of  sadness  and  longing 

*'  That  is  not  akin  to  pain, 
And  resembles  sorrow  only, 
As  the  mist  resembles  rain." 

Yes;  a  feeling  of  regret,  which,  as  another  poet  expresses  it: 

**  Ne'er  tell  me  of  glory  serenely  adorning 

The  close  of  our  days,  the  calm  even  of  life; 
Give  me  back,  give  me  back,  the  wild  freshness  of  morning, 
Its  smiles  and  its  tears  are  worth  evening's  best  light." 

But,  alas !  there  is  no  beautiful  alchemy  of  thought,  no  power  of 
necromancy,  whereby  we  can  live  life  over. 

"  There  are  gains  for  all  our  losses, 
There  are  joys  for  all  our  pains; 
But  when  youth  the  dream  departs 
It  takes  something  from  our  hearts, 
And  it  never  comes  again." 


506 

And  so,  dear  friends,  do  what  you  will,  the  past  can  live  for  you  no 
more.  The  faces  that  you  know  even  better  than  your  books,  may 
never  be  forgotten;  of  the  friendships  formed,  within  your  quiet 
Convent  walls,  the  golden  links  may  never  be  unlocked;  the  gold- 
gleaming  vistas  that  rose  before  your  youthful  vision,  and  fed  the 
hungry  hope  of  girlish  expectation,  may  often  recur  amid  the  varied 
scenes  of  life,  but  none  of  these  things  can  ever  bring  back  the 
quiet,  peaceful  days  that  close  for  you  amid  the  smiling  approbation 
and  the  hearty  plaudits  of  your  friends  on  this  memorable  night. 
Yes;  the  radiant  sun  will  shine,  the  showers  of  spring  and  summer 
will  fall,  the  storms  and  snows  of  winter  will  ride  upon  the  air,  but 
the  tender  grace  of  the  days  that  are  dead  will  never  come  back  to 
you. 

I  am  not  here  to  preach  to  you  upon  this  joyful  day;  I  am  not 
here  to  sadden  your  thoughts  with  gloomy  retrospections  of  the 
past,  when  your  hearts  should  be  aglow  with  rosy  anticipations  of 
the  future. 

And  yet  I  should  ignobly  fail  in  my  duty  to  you,  with  whom  I 
have  maintained  such  pleasant  relations,  did  I  not  seek  to  impress 
upon  you  the  obvious  and  necessary  lesson,  that  time  is  passing  on. 

Oh !  then  let  me  impress  upon  you  the  value  of  time.  "  Carpe 
diem,'^  says  the  pagan  poet.  Seize  the  fleeting  moment.  It,  and  it 
alone,  is  yours.  Wander  oft  in  fancy  amid  the  wrecks  and  monu- 
ments of  time;  read  the  epitaphs  of  the  hours  and  learn  the  moral. 

*'  We  take  no  note  of  time, 
But  from  its  loss — to  give  it  then 
A  tongue  were  wise  in  man." 

Each  moment  is  a  warning  orator.  Each  hour  is  a  preacher  divine 
in  power.  Oh  !  the  value  of  time  !  What  is  value  ?  It  is  the  pur- 
chasing power  of  anything.  It  is  its  fitness  to  be  exchanged  for 
something  desirable  to  have.  And  what  can  you  exchange  for  time  ? 
Eternity,  my  friends.  Tempus  praeteritum  nunquam  revertiturf — 
"  Time  past  never  returns."  It  is  with  time  as  with  childish  inno- 
cence; it  is  with  time  as  it  is  with  a  mother's  love.  Its  full  value  is 
never  known  until  it  is  gone — gone  forever. 

The  time  is  come  when  no  gentle  hand  is  applied  to  the  shoulder 
of  eYery  sluggard,  and  the  stern  words  uttered  in  his  ear,  "  Awake, 


507 

thou  that  deepest. "  The  world  is  rolling  on  with  the  velocity  of  a 
declining  body  near  the  close  of  its  career,  and  those  who  would  aid 
the  moral  and  spiritual  renovation  of  mankind  must  be  wide 
awake.  And  who  have  more  to  do  with  it  than  women  ?  To  the 
progress  of  this  reform  they  already  owe  their  privileges,  their  dig- 
nity, their  elevation.  Look  at  the  slavery  and  degradation  in  which 
they  are  held  when  the  light  of  the  Gospel  does  not  shine,  and  see 
if  you  have  not  sufficient  motive  to  labor  for  the  promotion  of 
Chiistianity  and  its  attendant  blessings.  It  is  the  hand  of  woman 
that  brings  up  heroes.  It  is  in  the  nursery  that  the  Christian  and 
the  gentleman,  no  less  than  the  warrior  and  the  statesman,  are  fos- 
tered and  developed.  The  moulding  hand  of  maternal  skill  is 
charged  with  fearful  responsibility.  But  the  promise  of  the  bless- 
ing is  given  to  fidehty.  "  He  that  goeth  forth  and  weepeth,  bear- 
ing precious  seed,  shall  doubtless  come  again  rejoicing,  bringing  his 
sheaves  with  him." 

It  will  fall  out  to  you,  no  doubt,  to  take  some  share  in  the  work. 
For  this  are  you  graduated  to-day;  for  this  have  you  provided  your- 
selves with  moral  and  mental  equipment  during  long  and  toilsome, 
and  I  hope  fruitful,  years.    I  would  fain  think  you  equal  to  the  task. 

My  own  sentiments  (otherwise  I  should  not  think  it  a  duty  and 
privilege  to  address  you)  do  not  coincide  with  those  who  seek  to 
trace  a  broad  distinction  between  the  sexes  on  the  score  of  mental 
force;  who  brand  with  imbecility  of  mind,  and  an  original  inferiority 
of  intellect,  the  members  of  the  gentler  sex.  But  whether  this  be 
so  or  not,  it  will  be  the  special  province  of  your  sex  to  be  the  at- 
tractive centre  of  the  domestic  circle.  There  will  be  your  sphere 
of  usefulness  and  interest.  The  graces,  virtues,  and  accomplish- 
ments which  you  labored  so  assiduously  to  acquire,  these  will  be  the 
ornaments  of  your  character,  these  your  weapons  of  defense,  these 
the  magician's  wand  to  dispel  the  cheerless  desolation  of  the  desert 
world  around  you.  And  I  know  you  will  be  true  to  your  sex. 
Who  can  suffer  and  endure  hke  you?  Who,  when  the  specious 
suitor  changes  into  the  unfeeling  husband,  can  take  her  lot  witli  un- 
repining  patience,  and  meet  the  world  with  smiles  of  seeming  cheer- 
fulness, having  learned  the  art 

"  To  bleed  in  secret,  and  yet  bear  the  smart." 


508 

Whose  mild  influence  controls  the  follies,  and  whose  tenderness,  at 
the  risk  of  personal  blame,  can  shield  the  faults  of  the  wayward 
brother  ?  When  sickness  strikes  him  down,  what  eyes  are  dim  with 
weeping,  what  cheeks  pale  with  watching  ?  What  hand  administers 
the  cordial,  and  smooths  the  pillows  ?  What  form  glides  round  the 
bed  with  the  quiet  care  of  a  mortal,  yet  ministering  spirit  ?  Whose 
tear  soothes  dejection?  Whose  smile  calms  the  ruffled  temper? 
Whose  patience  bears  all  infirmities  ?  Every  man,  unless  he  be 
born  in  a  desert  island,  will  answer,  woman's.  Let  man  take  his 
claimed  supremacy,  and  take  it  as  his  hereditary  and  inalienable 
right.  Let  him  have  for  birthright  and  dower,  sovereignty  in  sci- 
ence, pre-eminence  in  philosophy,  in  learning,  arts,  and  arms.  Let  him 
wear  the  ermine,  the  lawn,  the  helmet  unchallenged,  and  wield,  un- 
rivalled, the  sword,  the  pencil,  and  the  pen.  Let  him  be  supreme 
in  camp,  and  cabinet,  and  council; — to  woman  still  belongs  a  goodly 
guerdon  of  which  no  power  can  deprive  her. 

To  acquire  over  the  unruly  temper  of  man,  a  mighty  influence  for 
good;  to  manifest  a  faith  that  never  fails,  and  a  patience  that  never 
tires;  to  exhibit  a  devotedness  that  can  sacrifice,  and  a  courage  that 
can  suffer,  to  be  true  when  all  are  false,  and  firm  when  all  is  hope- 
less; to  watch  with  an  eye  that  never  sleeps,  and  care,  that  never 
changes  the  dear  objects  of  your  regard;  to  think,  to  act,  to  suffer, 
to  sacrifice,  to  live,  to  die  for  them, — these  shall  be  your  triumphs; 
for  these  lofty  ends  have  you  received  the  priceless  blessing  of  a 
Christian  education. 

And  now  you  go  forth  for  the  fulfillment  of  your  mission.  You 
are  yet  untried,  but  I  pray  you  may  prove  true.  Oh !  be  sure  to 
begin  aright.  Lay  your  plans  in  wisdom  and  prudence,  and  you 
will  carry  them  to  success;  or,  if  you  do  not  command,  what  is  bet- 
ter, you  will  deserve  the  guerdon  and  the  crown. 

Let  the  lamp  of  experience,  the  experience  of  those  who  have 
gone  before  you,  shine  before  your  feet.  The  mariner  who  would 
guide  his  bark  aright,  does  not  despise  the  wrecks  of  former  adven- 
tures. He  shapes  his  course  by  the  shoals,  the  quicksands,  and  the 
rocks,  no  less  than  by  the  compass  and  the  beacon.  If  the  heart  is 
steadfast  to  the  haven  of  peace  and  joy,  skill  and  caution  will  be 
employed. 

You  go  forth  to-day  with  gladness  and  rejoicing,  but  I  sorrow  for 


509 

your  going.  You  go  forth  with  buoyancy  and  hope,  and  yet  my 
heart  bleeds  for  you,  for  you  go  out  into  a  cold  and  unfeeling  world. 
Yes,  you  go  into  a  land  of  deceit,  where  the  true  is  outweighed  by 
the  seeming;  where  all  is  hollow  mockery  and  stark  sham;  shame- 
less pretence  and  haughty  arrogance, — a  cruel  world  where  the 
weaker  often  goes  to  the  wall,  where  unrequited  merit  pines  and 
starves,  while  brazen  mediocrity,  proud-fronted  imbecility  bears 
away  the  coveted  prize.  Your  tender  sex  will  be  no  shield;  your 
personal  charms  or  your  acquired  qualities  no  defense. 

Unless  the  star  of  religion  guide  your  course  you  must  wander  in 
the  dark;  unless  the  light  of  faith  lead  you  on,  you  will  go  astray; 
unless  the  memories  of  this  hallowed  hour  abide  with  you  to  teU 
you  the  right  and  true,  you  must  miserably  fail.  God  grant  it  be 
not  so.  You  will  remember  the  teachings  of  your  youth.  You  will 
cherish  the  counsels  of  the  wise.  You  will  seek  the  support  of  re- 
ligion and  the  guidance  of  God. 

Let  me  give  you  a  few  words  of  counsel  and  I  have  done. 

Be  kind.  Oh !  there  is  so  little  kindness  in  the  world.  Woman 
is  weak,  but  she  has  the  power  of  making  the  world  happy  by  her 
kindness.  Most  of  us  are  unhappy  because  the  world  is  unkind. 
"Be  kind,  not  by  impulse,  but  by  deliberation  ;  but  be  kind  always. 
God  is  everywhere:  He  is  in  the  darksome  foliage  of  the  grove;  He 
is  in  the  sigh  of  the  summer  zephyr;  He  is  in  the  purling  of  the 
silvery  stream;  He  is  in  the  fibres  of  the  soul;  but  most  of  all  He  is 
in  our  thoughts.  In  the  temple  of  your  mind  let  none  but  kind 
thoughts  dweU.  Be  kind  in  speech.  Kind  words  are  the  music 
of  God's  world;  they  are  the  solace  of  weary  hours,  the  sunshine  of 
existence.  Do  always  kindly  deeds.  Kindness  is  the  pouring  out 
of  self  on  others;  it  is  the  spirit  of  the  meek  and  humble  Jesus." 

Kindness  is  a  little  thing,  but  little  things  make  life.  "  And  is  not 
the  grass  of  the  fields  better  than  the  cedars  of  Lebanon;  it  feeds 
more;  it  rests  the  eye  better.  Kindness  is  the  turf  of  the  spiritual 
world,  where  the  sheep  of  Christ  feed  quietly  beneath  the  Shepherd's 
eye." 

Be  contented  with  your  lot.  Do  not  repine.  Rise  like  true 
heroines,  superior  to  your  circumstances  and  surroundings,  and  lift 
your  heads  towards  the  heavens  of  God.  The  home  of  happiness  is 
in  the  heart,  not  in  the  great  big  world  without. 


510 

"  Honor  and  fame  from  no  conditions  rise; 
Act  well  your  part, — there  all  the  honor  lies." 

Learn  to  love  labor.  Labor  is  the  great  law  of  life.  It  is  espe- 
cially so  for  women.  "  Man's  work  is  from  sun  to  sun,  but  woman's 
work  is  never  done."  Idleness  is  the  door  of  temptation.  An  idle 
brain  is  the  Devil's  workshop.  "  Ora  et  labora "  was  the  motto  of 
the  Monks  of  Subraco,  and  the  poet  says  : 

"  Live  for  something,  be  not  idle, 
Look  about  thee  for  employ. 
Let  not  down  to  useless  dreaming, 
Labor  is  the  sweetest  joy." 

Shun  vanity.  It  is  an  easy,  but  a  dangerous  vice.  It  turns  the 
head,  warps  the  mind,  dwarfs  the  intellect,  and  beggars  the  purse. 
Few  of  us  are  strong  enough  to  be  praised.  I  think  it  was  Seneca 
who  said,  "  Praise  is  the  spur  of  noble  minds,"  but  Seneca  was  a 
pagan.  Human  praise  is  often  the  flatterer's  foil;  the  praise  of  God 
is  sufficient. 

"  Be  just  and  fear  not.  Let  all  the  ends  thou  aim  at  be  thy 
country's,  thy  God's,  and  truth's." 

Shun  prejudice;  it  is  the  enemy  of  truth,  and  the  perjurer  of 
peace.  Men  are  governed  more  by  prejudice  than  by  reason. 
Beware  of  prejudices;  they  are  like  rats;  men's  minds  are  like 
traps;  prejudices  creep  easily  in,  but  with  difficulty  get  out.  Bias 
in  anything  is  a  hateful  vice. 

Be  generous  in  your  judgments,  and  remember  the  axiom  of  the 
poet  : 

"  'Tis  not  enough,  taste,  judgment,  learning  join. 
In  all  you  speak  let  truth  and  candor  shine." 

Shun  temptation.  The  best  remedy  against  temptation  is  to  keep 
out  of  the  reach  of  its  guns.  As  often  as  the  pitcher  goes  to  the 
well,  it  is  broken  at  last 

Be  honest.  Honesty  is  the  best  policy;  not  because  it  pays,  but 
because  it  is  honest.  An  honest  man  is  the  noblest  work  of  God; 
but  an  honest  woman,  who  shall  speak  her  praise  ?  Do  not  be  a 
slave  to  what  anybody  is  going  to  say  about  you.  Live  lying 
slanders  down.     Hold  up  your  head  and  be  independent  of  them. 


511 

What  are  words?  only  words;  they  fly  through  the  air,  they  make  a 
sound,  but  they  break  not  any  bones. 

And  lastly,  be  truthful.  Shun  equivocation.  Be  open  as  the  day. 
Hate  deceit;  despise  dissimulation.  God  abominateth  the  lying 
tongue. 

And  finally,  cherish,  my  dear  young  friends,  cherish  and  hold  fast 
those  Christian  principles  which  your  kind  teachers  have,  aU  these 
years,  labored  to  instill  into  your  minds;  rather  let  your  right  hand 
wither,  and  your  tongue  grow  dumb,  than  that  you  should  ever  prove 
false  or  recreant  to  the  hnes  of  duty  stamped  upon  your  young 
hearts,  and  graven  upon  your  character  by  those  good  Sisters  who 
displayed  for  you  more  than  a  mother's  love  and  care  in  the  solemn 
and  laborious  task  of  your  training  and  education,  to  whom  you  owe 
a  debt  of  gratitude  that  time  cannot  efface,  nor  treasure  ever  repay. 

The  future  is  before  you.  The  book  thereof  is  sealed.  By  the 
hand  of  man  it  cannot  be  broken.  It  is  well  that  we  are  ignorant 
here.  A  foreknowledge  of  our  soitows  might  palsy  our  resolutions 
and  our  hopes;  a  surety  of  our  blessings  might  cast  us  back  upon 
our  indolence.  But  let  us  form  high  resolves  to-day.  Let  us  task 
our  God-given  talents  to  the  utmost;  let  us  be  bold  and  daring  in 
adventure;  let  us  be  heroic  on  the  field  of  battle;  vahant,  yet 
humble,  warriors,  for  our  strength  is  of  God.  In  prosperity  moder- 
ate your  exultation;  in  adversity  learn  to  rejoice  in  this — that  your 
treasure  is  in  that  celestial  city,  where  no  thief  can  ever  enter.  If 
the  Angel  of  Death  should  hasten  you  away,  may  it  be  only  to  tread 
those  heavenly  couits,  whose  bright  walls  and  floors  are  made  of 
precious  stones  and  the  purest  gold;  and  the  effulgence  of  the  burn- 
ing throne,  and  He  that  sitteth  thereupon,  is  the  light  thereof. 


RAISING  OF   THE  FLAG  ON  ST.  MARY'S  SCHOOL, 
HOBOKEN,  N.  J.,  JULY  4,  1892, 

Fellow-Citizens  : 

Upon  this  day,  the  anniversary  of  that  memorable  day  which  gave 
to  these  United  States  a  place  among  the  nations  of  the  earth,  it  is 
becoming  that  the  people  should  come  together  to  unite  in  thanks- 
giving and  praise  to  the  Almighty  Ruler  of  empires,  not  alone  for 
those  peculiar  and  special  temporal  blessings  which  we  are  per- 
mitted to  enjoy,  but  also  for  the  spiritual  advantages  vouchsafed  to 
us  in  the  unrestrained  exercise  of  conscience,  and  in  the  practice  of 
that  religion  to  which  we  shall  adhere  while  breath  abides  in  our 
bodies,  as  the  hope  of  our  country  and  the  pledge  of  our  salvation. 

The  rejoicings  in  which  we  participate  upon  this  glad  occasion 
present  to  the  world  a  sublime  spectacle;  a  spectacle  laden  with 
glorious  and  inspiring  emotions.  It  is  not  the  voice  of  the  deep- 
mouthed  cannon  that  we  hear;  not  merely  the  merry  chiming  of  the 
bells  that  ushered  in  the  dawn  of  day;  but  every  reverberation  that 
shakes  the  solid  earth;  every  peal  that  rings  musically  forth;  every 
shout  that  swells  upward  to  the  welkin  in  the  heavens,  is  but  a  unit 
in  the  great  paean  of  liberty,  gushing  forth  in  spontaneous  triumph 
from  the  hearts  of  a  happy  and  united  people  in  this  jubilee  of 
freemen. 

Rejoice,  then,  to-day,  I  sa}^  rejoice. 

"  Go  ring  the  hells  and  fire  the  guns 
And  fling  your  starry  banners  out, 
Shout  Freedom  till  your  lisping  ones 
Give  back  the  cradle  shout." 

Let  the  cannon  speak  to  the  mountain;  the  mountain  to  the  vale, 
and  as  their  voices  leap  from  hill-top  to  hill-top  the  response  to  every 


513 

echo  shall  be  Liberty.  Let  the  bells  ring  out  the  merry  peal,  chim- 
ing with  sweet  music  the  anthem  of  liberty.  Let  bonfires  blaze  over  all 
the  land;  fling  the  starry  banner  to  the  breeze;  call  the  people  forth, 
that  old  age  and  youth,  manhood  and  maidenhood  may  unite  in  one 
wide  chorus — our  God,  our  freedom,  and  our  native  land. 

As  we  look  abroad  on  our  fail*  laud,  how  the  heart  bounds  with 
honest  exultation.  How  the  soul  swells  with  patriotic  pride !  Need 
we  point  to  the  innumerable  avenues  to  individual  happiness  and 
national  glory  that  present  themselves  to  view  ?  To  the  sweet  vale, 
redolent  of  nature's  perfumes,  where  the  glistening  plough  turns 
the  fertile  furrow,  and  the  farmer  reaj^s  the  fruits  of  the  eai*th  for 
his  own  uses,  free  from  the  exacting  tithe,  or  the  yet  more  exacting 
tyrant  ?  To  the  mountain-side,  where  the  towering  patriarchs  of 
the  forest  fall  before  the  oft-plied  axe  of  the  woodman ;  to  the  co- 
pious waterfaUs,  where  well-clad,  educated  Industry  turns  its  happy 
eyes  from  the  loom  to  the  skies,  thanking  the  Giver  of  all  good  for 
the  rich  blessings  daily  conferred?  Need  we  point  to  our  great 
and  growing  commerce  which  spangles  every  sea  with  the  stars  of 
our  glorious  Union,  commanding  the  respect  of  the  whole  world  and 
convejdng  a  beacon  of  hope  to  millions  yet  in  bondage  ?  To  our 
vast  territory,  stretching  from  ocean  to  ocean,  embracing  every 
cUme,  and  yielding  every  product  essential  to  the  comfoi-t  or  the 
luxuiy  of  man  ?  To  our  advancement  in  art,  science,  literature,  and 
in  all  those  elements  which  contribute  to  the  refinement,  happiness, 
and  virtue  of  a  people,  and  the  power  and  grandeur  of  a  nation  ? 
Need  we  point  to  that  most  supreme  of  earthly  blessings  which  we 
here  enjoy  in  a  measure  far  beyond  all  other  peoples,  perfect 
libeiiy  in  affairs  of  civil  polity  and  untrammelled  freedom  in  wor- 
shipping our  Creator  according  to  the  desires  of  our  heart  and  the 
dictates  of  our  consciences  ? 

Do  we  look  into  the  well-spring  of  our  inheritance  to  assure  our- 
selves that  it  is  still  pure  at  the  source,  that  the  crystal  springs  from 
which  we  diink  will  not  cease  to  flow,  the  waters  of  our  national 
fountains  become  turbid  and  distasteful?  If  the  blessings  we  enjoy 
to-day  are  the  fruit  of  our  peculiar  institutions,  with  those  blessings 
comes  down  to  us  the  solemn  duty  of  guarding  and  protecting  the 
spiings  of  our  happiness  and  the  sources  of  our  national  glorj^  The 
history  of  republics  teaches  us  a  prolific  lesson;  and  the  history  of 
33 


514 

nations  assures  us  that  none  are  so  adamantine  as  to  be  impervious 
to  decay.  Man,  with  all  the  weakness  of  mortality'  about  him,  is  not 
more  the  creature  of  impulse  and  adventitious  circumstances,  than  is 
a  nation.  Nations  are  not  immortal,  and  their  systems  are  as  sus- 
ceptible of  political  change  and  as  liable  to  disease,  derangement, 
and  death,  as  the  human  system  to  changes  of  temperature  and  clime. 
Under  a  despotism  it  is  not  the  duty  nor  the  privilege  of  the 
people  to  raise  their  voice  in  the  conduct  of  government;  but  under 
our  system  the  people  constitute  the  governing  power;  and  if  that 
power  is  recreant  to  itself,  if  it  fail  to  perform  its  work,  and  trusts  to 
corrupt  and  mercenary  hands  the  guidance  of  its  affairs,  what  result 
can  reason  apprehend  but  annihilation,  national  death,  and  the 
overthrow  of  liberal  institutions  ?  O  !  let  it  never  come  to  this.  Give 
not  to  the  future  so  dark  a  destiny.  Compel  not  the  historian  of 
coming  time  to  weep,  as  looking  backward  through  the  dim  vista  of 
intervening  ages,  he  writes  in  letters  of  blood  the  record  of  our  na- 
tional shame.  For,  believe  me,  my  countrymen,  when  the  glorious 
structure  of  American  manhood  has  passed  away;  when  our  admirable 
system  shall  be  blotted  out,  and  the  hope  that  our  example  has  en- 
kindled in  the  hearts  of  growing  millions  is  overwhelmed,  the  dirge 
of  civil  libei*ty  will  be  sounded,  the  death  pang  of  freedom  will  be  over, 

"Her  name,  her  nature,  withered  from  the  world." 

Where,  then,  shall  be  found  a  time  or  place  to  relume  the  ex- 
tinguished lamp  of  liberty  ?  Where,  then,  will  be  the  hope  and 
refuge  of  ttie  oppressed  ?  With  the  example  of  our  recreancy  be- 
fore them,  will  the  generations  of  the  future  give  up,  as  our  fore- 
fathers gave  up,  their  wealth,  their  blood,  tlieir  lives,  in  the  work  of 
garnering  another  harvest  of  political  freedom  and  independence  ? 
No;  at  every  step  the  insulted  wisdom  of  our  sages  would  cry  to 
them  from  their  silent  tombs,  "  Withhold  your  labors  " 

Think  how  precious  to  the  world  is  the  success  of  our  experiment 
in  popular  government;  how  fruitful  of  promise  to  mankind;  and  if 
it  fail,  how  humiliating  to  our  boasted  intelligence  wiU  be  its  down- 
fall. 

With  us  lies  the  responsibility  of  carrying  our  experiment  to  a 
successful  issue.  We  are  not  without  weapons  for  the  work.  The 
sword  and  buckler  are  in  our  keeping.     The  sword  we  are  to  use  is 


515 

the  right  of  suffrage,  and  the  weapon  we  are  to  wield  is  the  bail3a<!;, 
"  which  executes  a  freeman's  will  as  lightning  does  the  will  of  G^d-'" 
Intelligence  is  the  whetstone  of  our  sword,  the  polisher  of  our  araaior - 
and  if,  with  the  intelligence  that  we  possess,  we  make  wisdom  mndL 
morality  our  allies,  no  power,  earth-born  or  hell-sprung,  can  suc««ss- 
full}^  obstruct  the  irresistible  march  of  civil  and  religious  freedom,, 
or  thwart  the  destiny  which  God  seems  to  have  marked  out  fcMr  the 
American  people  in  conducting  them  to  the  lofty  summit  of  their 
present  greatness  and  national  renown 

But  there  are  dangers  before  us;  there  are  enemies  marslialled 
against  us,  and  we  must  prepare  for  the  defense. 

Observe  the  careful  mariner,  who  with  his  stout  ship  traverses  the' 
trackless  ocean.  The  fair  winds  of  heaven  waft  him  pleasantly  om 
his  way.  All  is  bright  and  prosperous;  no  clouds  above,  no  storms 
around;  and  with  his  hand  upon  the  wheel,  the  bulky  vessel,,  her 
wide  wings  spread  aloft,  bounds  over  the  waves,  as  yielding  as.  anj 
infant  to  its  master's  will.  But  the  skillful  sailor  knows  that  storms; 
may  come,  and  in  the  prosperity  of  the  present  he  forgets  B!ot  the 
prospective  dangei-s  of  the  future.  The  hour  of  tranquillity  Iieem>- 
ploys  in  fortifying  his  ship  against  the  whirlwinds  that  lurk  ub  the 
broad  atmosphere.  Every  rope  is  set;  all  hands  are  on  the  aleiii; 
and  with  an  eye  ever  watchful  against  impending  danger,  he  scans; 
the  wide  encu'cling  horizon.  A  speck  appears  in  the  far  distance. 
It  is  a  cloud  upon  the  weather  quarter.  But  he  waits  not  for  the 
storm  to  burst  upon  him ;  but  at  the  first  gleam  of  danger  his  yai'ds: 
are  manned,  his  sails  are  clewed  up,  his  hatches  battened  down,,  and 
with  stout  and  trusty  hands  upon  the  helm,  he  looks  defiance  in  the 
face  of  the  approaching  tumult.  Nearer,  nearer,  comes  the  speck; 
wider  still  it  gi'ows,  till  it  pervades  all  visible  space  and  blackens  the 
whole  heavens.  The  skies  above  and  around  are  enveloped  in  inky- 
drapery,  and  the  forked  lightnings  shoot,  hissing,  from  the  clouds  to 
the  ocean.  On  comes  the  storm;  on  comes  the  humcane;  and  like 
a  rushing  demon,  sweeps  howling  through  the  cordage.  The  goodL 
ship  reels  before  the  shock;  she  bows  to  the  tempest,  and  quivers  ift 
every  timber,  like  a  frightened  steed.  But  lo !  she  rights  again ;  the 
tornado  has  swept  by;  the  sun  breaks  through  the  fire-fringed  clouds; 
the  danger's  past,  and  with  sails  slowly  spread  to  the  new-bora 
breeze,  the  mariner  speeds  safely  to  his  destination. 


516 

And  thus  when  we  hear  the  mutterings  of  a  storm  in  our  social  or 
political  atmosphere,  we  are  to  hold  ourselves  in  readiness  to  avert 
those  dangers  which  may  doom  us  to  inevitable  destruction.  It  is  an 
unqualified  truth,  that  a  pure  democracy  harbors  within  itself  the 
seeds  of  its  own  downfall;  and  unless  they  are  eradicated,  the 
structure  of  political  and  social  liberty  is  liable  to  degenerate  into 
radical  lawlessness  and  irreligion,  or  by  gradual  and  imperceptible 
transition  become  merged  into  absolute  monarchy  or  deplorable  des- 
potism. But  if  we  are  to  guard  against  these  ripening  dangers,  we 
must  hold  fast  those  principles  of  virtue  and  integrity  which  alone 
can  make  a  people  great;  hold  aloft  the  shield  of  liberty  as  an  segis 
to  petrify  all  who  dare  look  upon  it  with  the  eye  of  an  opponent,  and 
around  the  castle  of  individual  and  national  character  build  a  wall 
of  moral  strength,  invulnerable  as  the  shield  of  Jupiter,  imperishable 
as  time  itself.  Then  shall  we  train  up  a  plant  of  wholesome  and  vig- 
orous growth.  Then  shall  the  land  be  in  truth  a  refuge  for  the  heart- 
sick and  the  weary,  and  here  shall  be  heard  a  sweet  voice  whisper- 
ing hope  in  the  ears  of  the  oppressed,  telling  them  of  happier  climes, 
and  breathing  into  their  toi-pid  souls  a  dream  of  comfort  for  the 

future  : 

"  It  comes  like  soft  music  from  a  far  land, 
Wafted  from  the  West;  braving  the  rude  storms  ^ 

Of  ocean,  riding  the  tempest,  it  comes; 
And  mingling  with  the  zephyrs  of  the  clime, 
Floats  far  and  wide  in  a  rich  harmony. 
The  eager  passions  listen  as  it  moves, 
And  every  ear  drinks  up  the  heavenly  strain; 
Till  drunk  with  a  strange  ecstasy,  each  soul 
Puts  on  the  lofty  armor  of  a  God 
And  shouts  for  liberty." 

But  what  is  the  future  of  our  country  to  be  ?  There  exist  now 
doleful  prophets,  who  see  in  the  complex  and  conflicting  elements  of 
our  national  life  the  seeds  of  decay  and  dissolution.  Is  this,  the 
most  glorious  fabric  ever  erected  by  the  hand  of  man  for  the  secu- 
rity of  human  rights,  and  the  shelter  of  human  freedom,  to  share  the 
fate  of  those  republics  which  live  only  as  a  memory  of  bygcme 
greatness  ? 

Kome,  the  world-conquering  empire,  whose  sun-eyed  eagles 
spread  their  pinions  under  every  quarter  of   the  heavens;  whose 


517 

royal  standards  spoke  allegiance  to  the  nations  of  the  world,  was 
pulled  down  from  her  towering  grandeur;  the  sceptre  of  dominion 
dropped  from  her  nerveless  grasp;  and  though  venerable  in  her 
antiquity,  proud  in  her  desolation,  and  still  beautiful  in  her  ruins, 
she  has  for  nigh  on  a  score  of  centuries  presented  to  the  eyes  of 
mankind  the  inglorious  spectacle  of  the  pomp  of  civilization  and  the 
pride  of  imperial  power,  when  cast  down  by  coiTuption  and  debil- 
itated by  crime  and  folly. 

Greece,  land  of  the  mighty,  where  valor  found  a  glorious  death  or 
laurelled  victoiy;  Eden  of  the  classic  world,  where  Plato's  godlike 
lore  was  taught  and  Sappho's  songs  were  sung;  where  the  chisel 
gave  form  and  beauty  to  the  dull  rock  and  made  it  breathe  and 
live;  where  Olympia's  towers  resounded  with  the  Oi*phean  lyre,  and 
'mid  "  shady  grots  and  alleys  gi'een  "  the  Muses  sent  up  their  vocal 
strains  to  salute  the  skies;  Greece,  the  nurse  of  arms  and  the  mother 
of  science,  is  fallen.  She  has  become  the  sepulchre  of  the  mighty 
dead,  whose  smouldering  ashes  spread  as  dust  upon  fields  of  van- 
ished glory.  Her  degenerate  sons  now  kiss  the  servile  chain,  and 
like  the  bright  glow  that  lights  the  pariing  day,  her  splendor  has 
departed.  Her  arts  are  no  more;  her  shrines  are  laid  low,  and 
through  her  forsaken  halls  and  fallen  temples  and  o'er  her  ruined 
walls  stalks  desolation,  brandishing  on  high  the  besom  of  his  wrath. 

How  shall  it  fare  with  us  ?  It  may  be  that  our  experience  shall 
but  add  to  the  lessons  of  history,  and  that  the  disastei-s  predicted 
by  the  prophets  of  the  old-world  despotisms  shall  one  day  overtake 
us.  It  may  be  that  the  mournful  story  of  past  republics  shall  be 
^vritten  upon  the  broken  and  shattered  ruins  of  our  social  fabric. 
It  may  be  that  the  sun  of  our  national  glory  shall  go  down  in  blood, 
shining  sullenly  upon  the  "  dishonored  fragments  of  a  once  glorious 
Union";  that  violence  and  turbulence  shall  rend  asunder  the  bonds 
which  now  unite  us,  and  scatter  them  in  wild  confusion  through  the 
world.  It  may  be  that  the  smUing  fields  of  oiu'  prosperity  and  the 
green  valleys  of  our  contentment,  where  Columbia's  sons  now  re- 
pose in  security  and  peace,  may  be  devastated  by  the  tornadoes  of 
anarchy,  or  blighted  by  the  chilling  frosts  of  despotism.  It  may  be 
so,  my  countrymen;  it  may  be  that  the  light  of  our  nation's  grandeur 
shall  sink  in  shame  and  dishonor,  if  religious  rancor  or  sectional 
animosity  should  estrange  a  portion  of  the  people  from  this  now 


518 

^'lorious  and  inseparable  Union;  if  infamous  venality  or  political 
intrigue  should  sap  the  foundations  of  j)atriotism  and  dry  up  the 
springs  of  loyalty;  if  unlimited  prosperity  should  open  the  flood- 
gates of  corruption,  and  material  advancement,  the  only  goal  of  our 
ambition,  should  blind  us  to  the  need  of  moral  and  intellectual  cul- 
tivation; if  wealth  should  make  us  aristocratic  and  debauched,  like 
the  effete  nobility  of  Europe;  if  power  should  make  us  arrogant 
and  tyrannous;  fanaticism,  intolerant;  pride,  and  the  gross  pur- 
suits of  a  vaulting  ambition,  insensible  of  the  great  Almighty  source 
from  whom  our  blessings  flow. 

But  I  hold  no  such  dolorous  views  of  my  country's  hopes  and 
prospects.  I  cast  no  such  dismal  horoscope  of  my  country's  future, 
for  I  hold  that  sin  and  vice  alone  can  make  a  people  weak,  wicked- 
ness make  them  old,  ungodliness  infirm  and  tottering;  but  in  the 
fear  of  the  Lord  there  is  the  strength,  the  power,  the  beauty  of 
perpetual  youth. 

Upon  us  rests  a  grave  responsibility.  Upon  us  and  upon  those 
who  follow  us — upon  the  young  especially — the  good  man's  hope 
and  the  patriot  s  trust, — upon  those  parents  and  teachers  to  whom 
the  education  of  youth  is  entrusted,  rests  with  fearful  weight  this 
responsibility. 

My  friends,  what  can  I  say  to  you — what  can  I  say  but  repeat  the 
warning  which  I  gave  to  you  on  the  day,  when  in  a  large  and  dis- 
tinguished presence,  we  laid  the  corner-stone  of  the  magnificent 
structure  within  whose  walls  we  are  gathered  here  to-day.  Educate 
your  children  in  the  faith  of  Jesus  Christ. 

We  raise  here  to-day  the  flag  of  our  imperishable  Union.  The 
emblem  of  liberty  that  we  lift  aloft  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
ensigns  that  floats  over  the  earth.  That  old  flag  stands  for  what, 
after  God,  is  dearest  in  life  to  us,  our  firesides  and  our  native  land. 
That  flag  has  been  defended  with  a  valor  and  heroism  unsurpassed 
in  the  annals  of  time,  and  many  a  hero  has  poured  out  his  heart's 
iblood  to  save  it  from  dishonor. 

During  the  attacks  on  Fort  Moultrie  the  flagstaff  was  struck  by 
the  enemy's  shot  and  fell  outside  the  walls  of  the  fort.  Would  it 
be  left  to  trail  in  the  dust,  to  be  trampled  in  dishonor?  Who 
would  rescue  the  old  flag,  when  to  do  so  was  to  rush  into  the 
jaws  of  death  ?     There  was  one  brave  heart  who  feared  not  death 


519 

when  the  honor  of  the  flag  was  at  stake.  Tlie  gallant  and  intrepid 
Sergeant  Jasper,  amid  a  volley  of  leaden  rain,  leaped  over  the  breast- 
works and  picking  up  the  ensign  fastened  to  a  sponge  staff,  once 
more  replaced  it  on  the  fort,  while  from  his  admiring  comrades  went 
forth  a  wild  heroic  cheer,  thrice  repeated — Hurrah,  hurrah,  hurrah ! 

How  often  has  the  sight  of  that  flag  brought  hope  and  courage  to 
the  soldier  whose  drooping  spirits  sunk  from  the  onset,  as  lifting 
his  weary,  battle-blurred  eyes  he  beheld  the  glorious  ensign  fluttering 
against  the  distant  horizon,  and  inspired  with  renewed  valor,  he  hurled 
himself  against  the  foe,  resolved  to  conquer  or  die  in  the  endeavor. 

Dear  to  the  heart  of  every  son  of  Liberty  are  the  folds  of  that 
flag — that  flag  which  to-day  waves  in  unchallenged  victory  over  land 
and  sea.  May  it  ever  wave  over  our  country's  citadels  in  unsullied 
glory,  and  remain  a  shielding  banner  to  all  the  down-trodden  sons 
of  men;  and  whether  its  tattered  folds  ai*e  dimly  seen  through  the 
clouds  of  war,  or  beautiful  stripes  streaming  peacefully  over  the 
dome  of  our  national  capitol,  may  it  be  the  joy  and  pride  of  the 
American  people.  "  First  raised  in  the  cause  of  right  and  liberty, 
may  it  forever  spread  out  its  streaming  blazonry  to  the  battle,  the 
sunshine,  or  the  storm,"  May  vii-tue,  valor,  freedom,  peace,  dwell 
upon  the  earth  wherever  it  may  wave. 

Perhaps  the  greatest  menace  to  free  institutions  in  the  land  to- 
day, and  the  one  thing  which  more  than  all  else  saps  the  sources  of 
genuine  patriotism,  is  unreasoning  adherence  to  party. 

Party  ties,  here  and  elsewhere,  when  they  become  so  absorbing  as 
to  blind  the  people  to  the  interests  of  our  common  country^  must  be 
modified;  a  spirit  of  genuine  nationahty  must  predominate  over 
sectional  prejudice;  our  public  affairs  must  be  entrusted  to  wise, 
capable,  and  patriotic  hands,  that  thus  we  may  look  forward  with 
confidence  to  the  future;  that  our  children  and  our  children's  chil- 
dren may  eat  of  the  fruit  planted  by  the  men  of  '76;  and  the  nations 
of  the  earth  unite  at  last  with  us,  as  one  homogeneous  people,  with 
one  flag,  one  country,  one  God  and  Father  of  all,  and  multitudinous 
voices  over  all  the  earth,  joining  in  the  annual  tribute  of  our  joy,  oui- 
cheers  for  liberty,  shall  signalize  the  fourth  day  of  July  as  that  which 
drew  aside  the  bolts  of  tyranny  from  the  crystal  gates  of  civil  and 
religious  freedom,  never  by  God's  good  mercy  to  be  closed  tiU  all 
the  nations  of  the  earth  shall  be  dissolved  in  the  final  wreck  of 
matter  and  the  crush  of  worlc's. 


y. 

CATHOLIC    EDUCATION. 

LAYING   OF   THE   CORNER-STONE   OF   ST.   MARY'S   SCHOOL, 
HOBOKEN,   N.    J.* 

Rt.  Rev.  Bishop,  Rt.  Rev.  Monseigneur,  Mr.  Governor,  Catholics  of 
Hudson  County: 

I  give  you  greeting  here  to-day.  I  feel  a  joy  in  the  occasion 
which  calls  this  vast  assemblage  here  which  no  words  of  mine  can 
tell.  In  the  history  of  this  parish  this  is  a  red-letter  day  in  a  calen- 
dar of  glory.  In  the  cause  of  Christ  and  for  the  glory  of  the  God 
we  all  adore,  you  have  during  long  and  weary  years  expended  freely 
of  your  toil  and  treasure  to  upbuild  the  institutions  of  religion  in 
this  fair  city;  but  suffer  me  to  burn  it  indelibly  upon  your  minds, 
that  never,  since  by  pious  and  reverent  hands  the  cross  of  Christ 
was  planted  and  the  altar  of  the  living  God  erected  in  your  com- 
munity, have  you  set  your  hand  and  your  heart  to  a  work  of  more 
transcendent  import  than  that  begun  at  this  hallowed  and  gracious 
hour  in  the  laying  of  the  corner-stone  of  the  magnificent  school 
which,  under  God's  blessing,  will  soon  crown  the  noble  site  we  stand 
upon  to-day.  I,  therefore,  rise  with  glad  alacrity  in  this  dis- 
tinguished presence,  favored  as  we  are  by  the  attendance  of  the 
Governor  of  the  State,  the  Chief  Magistrate  of  the  city,  and  the 
companion  of  my  youth,  the  Congressional  Representative  of  this  dis- 
trict, to  unfold  to  you  the  solemn  significance  of  the  ceremony  per- 
formed before  this  great  concourse  of  interested  witnesses  upon  this 
memorable  day. 

Here  upon  this  sacred  spot — here  undor  the  shadow  of  God's 
sanctuary — here  in  a  land  renowned  for  its  love  of  learning — in  a 

*  From  the  Hohoken  News. 


621 

land  where  literature  flourishes  like  the  green  bay-tree  planted  b}' 
the  running  waters — in  a  land  where  art  lifts  her  heavenly  featiu'es 
and  science  stands  revealed  in  aU  her  native  charms — in  a  land 
where  genius  is  honored  and  rewarded;  where  merit  is  the  passport 
to  success,  and  intellect  the  only  aristocracy — in  the  land  of  Clay, 
Calhoun,  and  "Webster;  Bryant,  Lo well,  and  Longfellow ;  Prescott, 
Bancroft,  and  Brownson;  Hecker,  Ives,  and  Spaulding — in  this 
favored  land  which,  though  but  of  yesterday,  compared  w^th  trans- 
atlantic nations,  has,  by  the  magic  power  of  mind  and  genius,  cre- 
ated within  a  centui*y  a  national  literature  destined  to  imperishable 
fame, — we  are  met  to-day  to  contribute  what  we  can  to  the  institu- 
tions of  sound  learning,  in  the  hopeful  expectation  that  we  are  help- 
ing to  promote  the  renown  and  glory  of  our  age  and  scatter  bless- 
ings in  the  pathway  of  posterity. 

If  any  man  ask  what  is  the  necessity  for  the  building  of  this 
school,  when  schools  abound  on  every  side,  free,  commodious,  and 
accessible  to  all,  how  shaU  we  give  answer  ?  Have  we  not  in  this 
land  of  ours  a  banquet  of  intellectual  enjoyment,  and  do  we  not  in- 
vite all  to  come  and  feast  at  the  table  ?  Have  we  not  planted  a 
garden  of  mental  luxuriance,  flung  wide  open  the  gates  at  the  en- 
trance, and  bid  all  come  in  and  partake  of  the  fruits  of  our  plant- 
ing ?  Have  we  not  here  a  public  school  system  of  recognized  merit 
and  admitted  perfections,  whose  doors  are  unbarred  to  every  child 
that  may  come,  without  distinction  of  rank,  sex,  color,  or  creed  ?  A 
school  open  to  every  child  that  walks  the  face  of  our  broad  land  and 
lives  under  the  protection  of  our  liberal,  enlightened,  and  beneficent 
laws  ?     To  these  things  no  man  can  make  truthful  denial. 

"Wherefore,  then,  do  the  Catholics  of  this  country,  who  go  heaii; 
and  hand  with  their  fellow-citizens,  and  whose  loyalty  to  the  laws 
and  adhesion  to  the  Constitution  have  long  since  been  placed  beyond 
the  pale  of  reproach,  separate  or  divide  from  their  countr^Tnen  on 
this  question  of  education;  and  though,  for  the  most  part,  not 
abundantly  endowed  with  the  jDOSsessions  of  this  world,  incur  sucli 
heavy  expense,  make  so  many  exertions  to  build,  furnish,  and  main- 
tain schools  other  than  those  provided  by  the  government  for  sow- 
ing the  seminal  principles  of  knowledge  and  patriotism  in  the  minds 
of  the  up-growing  generations  ?  Apart  from  sufficiency  of  motive 
such  conduct  is  foUy  and  madness.     Whence,  then,  the  cause  ? 


522 

It  is,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  because  of  their  undying  devotion  to 
duty,  their  unshaken  allegiance  to  principle,  and  their  burning  de- 
sire and  unwearied  endeavor  to  confer  upon  their  children  and  their 
children's  children  the  unbought  and  unpurchasable  blessings  of  a 
Christian  education.  When  the  salvation  of  souls  is  the  stake,  they 
count  not  the  cost  nor  reckon  the  labor. 

It  is  because  of  this  imperious  consideration  that  the  Catholics  of 
this  country,  enlightened  by  the  experience  of  the  past  and  planning 
for  the  future,  build  their  own  schools  rather  than  make  tributary 
to  their  advantage  those  institutions  which,  with  commendable 
liberality  and  praiseworthy  public  spirit,  the  government  has 
founded  to  advance  the  cause  of  common  education.  Because  of 
this  Catholics  build  their  schools,  and  not  because  they  have  no  wish 
to  fraternize  with  their  brethren;  not  because  they  have  no  concern 
to  harmonize  with  the  spirit  and  genius  of  democracy;  not  because 
they  cherish  views  and  harbor  sentiments  alien  or  antagonistic  to 
the  established  policy  and  traditional  customs  of  this  free  land 
which  sheltered  them  from  despotism  and  oppression, — not  because 
they  do  not  love  their  country.     No;  God  forbid  ! 

We  are  Catholics,  and  to  be  such,  we  can  say,  with  St.  Augustine, 
is  our  glory  and  our  pride.  But  who  is  here  so  vile  that  will  not 
love  his  country  ?  We  are  Catholics,  but  we  are  Americans  in  every 
cord  and  fibre  of  our  frames;  and  every  hope  of  our  hearts,  after 
the  hope  of  heaven's  light  and  God's  salvation,  is  a  hope  for  her 
I)rosperity  and  a  prayer  for  her  perpetuity.  This  land,  these  laws, 
these  libei-ties,  are  they  not  ours  to  uphold,  ours  to  enjoy,  ours  to 
transmit  to  succeeding  generations  ? 

We  build  our  schools,  then,  because  we  love,  first  our  God  and 
then  our  country,  and  would  perpetuate  her  institutions  till  time 
shall  be  no  more;  and  while  we  unreservedly  surrender  to  our 
native  land  the  loyalty  of  our  hearts,  the  fire  of  our  intellects,  and 
the  strength  and  service  of  our  arms,  we  are  but  the  more  concerned 
for  her  welfare,  because  we  believe,  and  we  know,  and  we  maintain, 
that  it  is  written  in  the  eternal  and  inviolable  decrees  of  God,  that 
society  cannot  stand  which  is  not  built  upon  the  indestructible  bul- 
wark of  religion.     Nor  do  we  stand  alone  in  our  opinion. 

Let  me  give  you  a  name  to  conjure  with — a  name  unspeakably 
dear  to  every  American  heart,  nay,  to'  every  child  of  freedom  wher- 


523 

ever  God's  sun  shines  down  on  this  green  globe.  There  is  a  man 
whose  memory  is  immortal — at  the  sound  of  whose  name  your  souls 
thrill  and  your  hearts  gladden  with  delight.  As  the  ivy  clings  to 
the  oak  by  which  it  has  been  Hf ted  from  the  eai-th,  and  only  increases 
its  adhesion  as  the  monarch  of  the  forest  grows  venerable  with  frosts 
of  years;  so  has  the  lapse  of  time  but  served  to  strengthen  your 
affection  for  the  memory  of  a  man  who  put  forth  his  good  right 
hand  to  raise  his  country  from  the  prostrate  condition  in  which  he 
found  her;  to  i^lace  her  upon  a  pedestal  of  glory,  where,  under  the 
guidance  of  God's  providence  she  shall  continue  to  shine;  to  exalt 
her  to  au  acme  of  greatness  where  she  shall  endure  with  unfading 
power  and  splendor  till  the  heavens  are  gathered  like  a  scroll  and 
time  expires  in  the  arms  of  eternity — and  that  immortal  man  was 
Washington.  Hearken  to  the  lesson  from  his  lips  and  heed  it  well  : 
"  Let  us  with  caution  indulge  the  supposition  that  morality  can  be 
maintained  without  religion,  because  morality  and  religion  are  the 
props  of  society  and  the  pillai's  of  the  State." 

These,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  are  the  words  which  tlie  CathoHc 
Church  has  uttered  for  1,900  years — has  proclaimed  from  the  capitol 
of  the  Caesars  and  the  courts  of  Charlemagne ;  from  the  ancient  Roman 
forum,  in  the  groves  of  Academus  and  in  the  silent  forests  of  Gaul 
and  Germany;  from  the  rock-bound  coasts  of  Maine  to  the  ice-clad 
cliffs  of  Alaska,  and  which  she  will  continue  to  proclaim,  in  tones 
that  touch  and  thrill,  till  the  last  man  that  Christ  died  to  save  has  been 
gathered  to  the  bliss  of  heaven  or  consigned  to  the  shades  of  eternal 
death.  To  proclaim  this  heaven-sent  doctrine  she  sent  her  teachers 
into  every  land  and  clime.  Every  corner  of  the  eaiih  echoed  to  the 
tread  of  theii'  footsteps,  every  spot  to  the  sound  of  their  voice. 
Bearing  the  royal  charter  of  her  commission,  they  went  forth,  hold- 
ing aloft  the  plummet  of  progress  and  the  cross  of  Christ,  and  un- 
folding, not  in  the  persuasive  words  of  human  wisdom,  but  in  the 
power  and  grace  of  Jesus  Christ,  to  all  men,  at  all  times,  and  in  every 
clime,  the  need  of  Redemption  in  the  Lord;  and  cai-rying  to  all  the 
light  of  God's  salvation.  Their  deeds  are  not  graved  on  monu- 
ments of  brass,  or  cut  in  shining  shafts  of  marble,  but  they  are 
treasured  in  the  record  of  eternal  life,  and  shall  shine  with  the 
splendor  of  the  stars  through  the  everlasting  years  of  God. 

Catholics  build  schools,  because  Catholics  love  learning.     Who  are 


524 

greater  lovers  of  learning  than  you,  my  friends,  who,  for  the  most 
part,  are  descendants  of  a  people — I  mean  the  ancient  and  un- 
conquerable Celtic  race — whose  religion  and  education  were  banned 
for  five  bloody  centuries; — you  whose  fathers  came  from  a  land  where 
to  be  a  scholar  was  to  be  a  criminal.  It  may  still  linger  in  the  rec- 
ollection of  the  oldest  here,  who  came  from  the  emerald  land  be- 
yond the  seas,  that  you  were  once  an  enslaved  and  prostrate  people 
— a  people  without  home,  property,  or  education — a  people  excluded 
from  the  bench,  the  bar,  and  the  legislature, — a  people  whose  com- 
plaints were  scorned,  whose  grievances  were  mocked,  whose  burn- 
ing aspirations  after  liberty  were  silenced  by  chains  and  slavery, 
and  whose  life  and  manhood  were  ground  into  dust  and  stifled  in 
the  gloom  and  silence  of  the  grave.  Yes;  you  were  once  persecuted 
and  hounded  unto  death;  your  blood  was  poured  out  like  water 
from  the  fountain;  but  under  the  unsparing  plough  of  persecution 
that  blood  has  germinated  with  such  marvellous  rapidity  that  from 
being  a  handful  of  slaves  you  have  become  a  nation  of  freemen, 
while  the  glorious  tree  of  Celtic  Christianity  has  spread  its  branch- 
ing boughs  over  all  the  earth  for  the  admiration  and  amelioration  of 
mankind.  Ah !  yes,  methinks  I  see  them  now,  those  down-trodden 
but  invincible  lovers  of  libeii;y — see  them  lifting  their  bowed  heads 
and  looking  out  from  the  dreary  wilderness  of  their  woe  and  behold- 
ing, as  it  gleamed  in  grandeur  on  the  far-off  Western  horizon,  the 
golden  star  of  long-lost  liberty  hopefully  beaming  across  the  blue 
Atlantic,  upon  whose  inviting  bosom  they  launched  their  tiny  barks, 
to  be  wafted  b}'  God's  favoring  breezes  to  the  shelter  of  these 
shores.  Yes;  I  imagine  I  behold  them  now,  shaking  the  shackles  of 
oppression  from  their  limbs,  and  emerging,  like  men  risen  from  the 
dead,  from  the  gloomy  dungeon  of  age-long  despair — coming  out 
from  the  death-like  hold  of  a  voracious  despotism;  coming  out  from 
the  greedy  grasp  of  an  absorbing  aristocracy;  coming  out  from  the 
galling  tyranny  of  men  who  forced,  as  far  as  could  be  done,  their 
own  religion  and  worship  upon  them,  and  denied  to  them  the  liberty 
of  acting  according  to  their  consciences — coming  across  the  deep, 
blue  sea — coming  to  this  land  of  liberty,  and  as  they  first  set  foot  upon 
its  blessed  shores,  "  wildly  grasping  with  uplifted  hands  the  standard 
of  freedom,  its  basis  resting  on  their  gladdened  hearts  and  its  star- 
spangled  top  glittering  in  the  sunlit  heavens,"  as  looking  back  with 


525 

love  to  the  land  of  their  bii*th,  their  eyes  dimmed  with  emotion,  they 
rushed  forward  to  join  the  surging  chorus  of  the  young  and  brave 
democracy  which  bid  them  welcome  in  the  home  of  the  free. 

And  why  came  they  to  these  far-off  shores  ?  Because  they  were 
willing  to  submit  to  every  privation,  but  privation  of  freedom  of 
conscience  they  could  not  endure.  Because  they  were  prepared  to 
suffer  any  hardship,  but  the  hardship  which  deprived  them  and 
their  children  of  education  and  doomed  them  to  imbruting  and  de- 
grading ignorance,  was  too  intolerable  for  the  most  ignoble  slave  to 
undergo.  Submission  was  dishonorable,  resistance  ineffectual,  and 
flight  the  only  remedy  or  hope.  And  thus  they  forsook  the  fond 
endearments  of  their  native  land;  they  bade  farewell  to  all  the  as- 
sociations entwined  about  theii*  hearts,  to  place  themselves  under 
the  divine  protection,  and  trusting  confidently  to  the  future,  to  visit 
a  strange  and  unknown  land  to  seek  those  lights  of  manhood  de- 
nied to  them  at  home.  But  the  God  of  their  fathers  was  with  them, 
and  His  gi'acious  guidance  and  assistance  sustained  them  in  their 
enterprise,  and  in  the  peaceful  security  of  their  new  abode  in  the 
Western  world  they  poured  forth  grateful  aspirations  and  songs  of 
joy  to  Him  who,  as  He  protects  the  weak  and  the  needy,  so  watched 
their  destinies  and  iniled  their  lives. 

Long  years  have  rolled  by  since  their  advent  here;  much  vicissi- 
tude, and  sometimes  inhospitable  treatment,  was  their  portion,  but 
they  bore  themselves  with  foi-titude  and  patience,  so  that  we  to-day 
may  well  recall  with  pride  their  glorious  history,  and  pay  the  tribute 
of  our  reverence  to  their  memory,  and  fortunate  shall  we  be  if  we 
seek  to  illumine  the  character  of  our  age  by  the  illustrious  example 
of  lofty  faith,  splendid  endurance,  and  lion-like  courage,  which 
marked  the  conduct  of  those  Catholics  jvho  are  gone  before  us  in 
this  Western  Hemisphere. 

Who  loves  learning  more  than  the  members  of  that  old  Church, 
which,  through  the  long  night  of  barbarism,  was  the  patron  and  pre- 
server of  literature  and  the  custodian  of  civilization  in  the  w^orld  ? 
She  loves  learning  and  she  loves  the  light,  because,  like  God's  morn- 
ing star,  she  descends  from  the  bosom  of  uncreated  Light.  Like  a 
Pharos  in  the  tempest-tossed  and  sunless  ocean  of  time,  she  casts  her 
burning  beams  of  truth  athwart  the  wide-spread  gloom,  and,  like 
a  vapor  that  disappears  at  the  first  burst  of  sunlight,  darkness  flies 


526 

at  her  approach,  and  light,  genial,  radiant,  and  vivifying,  is  diffused 
over  the  darksome  sea  of  life.  She  rolled  back  the  never-ebbing 
flood  of  time;  she  penetrated  the  dim  and  misty  veil  of  the  past  till 
she  stood  by  the  tombs  of  the  Ptolemies  and  the  Pharaohs;  she  groped 
through  the  age-crowned  ruins  of  Rome,  and  wandered  through  the 
broken  temples  of  ancient  Greece;  she  has  gone  down  into  the  Cat- 
acombs to  speak  to  the  voiceless  dead;  she  snatched  a  lamp  from  the 
table  of  industry  to  fling  a  wizard  beam  upon  arts  and  languages 
long  forgotten,  and  in  every  century,  and  in  every  clime,  upon  every 
sea  and  shore,  she  evoked  the  genius  of  intelligence  and  wove  a  gar- 
land, fair  and  beautiful,  for  the  brow  of  civilization,  from  flowers 
culled  from  every  field  of  information. 

The  same  love  of  learning  is  her  passionate  pursuit  in  America. 
Her  numerous  buildings  and  educational  establishments,  scattered 
over  the  face  of  this  broad  land,  attest  the  liberality  of  her  religion 
and  the  piety  of  her  people.  Visit  the  lowest  valleys;  ascend  to 
the  wildest  heights  ;  go  to  the  far-off  Pacific  and  view  the  moss- 
crowned  remains  of  those  structures  erected  by  the  fiery  zeal  of  the 
Friars  of  San  Francisco,  and  the  very  stones  will  tell  you  of  bygone 
times,  when  from  countless  choirs  the  voice  of  intelligent  praise  as- 
cended to  the  Most  High  God,  in  temples  and  shrines  raised  up  by 
the  devotion  of  these  hardy  pioneers.  What  spirit  impelled  them 
but  the  love  of  truth  and  conscience;  the  same  spirit  as  that  which 
came  down  at  Pentecost ;  the  spirit  which,  when  religion  had  all  but 
vanished,  when  her  altars  were  overturned,  and  the  storm  of  perse- 
cution gathered  thick  and  fast  around  her,  enabled  her  followers  to 
stand  fast  in  the  Thermopylae  of  their  faith — to  stand  up  for  liberty 
of  conscience — to  stand  for  right  and  truth  and  justice— to  stand  up 
to  defend  the  land  from  the  ^blight  of  irreligion,  to  spread  the  good 
seed  of  the  Gospel,  and  to  seal  by  the  baptism  of  their  blood  this 
continent  for  Christ. 

This  is  the  spirit  which  calls  us  here  to-day.  This  is  the  spirit 
which  impels  us  to  bear  an  almost  insuppoi-table  burden  in  maintain- 
ing our  own  schools.  We  want  schools,  and  we  want  scholars,  but 
we  want  religious  schools.  We  don't  want  a  Christless  Christianity. 
W^e  don't  want  the  blight  and  bale  of  infidelity  and  atheism.  We 
want  our  country  to  endure,  and  we  know  that  without  God  there 
can  be  no  commonwealth. 


527 

We  wage  no  war  upon  the  public  schools.  We  are  not  hostile  to 
education.  We  hold  that  it  should  be  universal  and  adequate  to 
the  needs  of  the  community.  It  is  no  difficult  demonstration  to  show 
that  it  was  not  Horace  Mann,  nor  the  pious  Pilgiims  of  Massachu- 
setts, but  the  Catholic  Church,  which  first  founded  common  free 
schools  for  the  people. 

But  the  secular  public  school  we  find  to  be  defective.  Morality, 
says  Washington,  cannot  be  maintained  without  religion,  and  until 
reUgion,  in  some  way  satisfactory  to  the  consciences  of  all,  is  taught 
under  our  common  school  system,  the  first  end  of  education  will  be 
ignored,  and  the  greatest  desideratum  of  the  human  heart,  the 
moulding  and  directing  influence  of  religion,  will  remain  unprovided 
for.  Till  the  dawn  of  that  better  and  more  enlightened  day,  Cath- 
olics, we  hope,  will,  as  they  are  doing  upon  this  spot  to-day,  build 
their  schools  and  have  the  benevolence  and  generosity  to  maintain 
them. 

And  when  these  walls,  which  rise  here  in  stately  beauty  and  ma- 
jestic proportion,  are  worn  and  time-honored,  the  youth  of  this  city 
will  still  come  to  this  temple  of  knowledge  to  meditate  upon  the  les- 
sons of  the  past  and  gird  themselves  for  the  battles  of  the  future; 
and  may  they  always  find  here  the  teachings  of  patriotism  and  in- 
corruptible citizenship,  and  examples  of  wisdom  and  piety  to  study 
and  to  emulate.  Thus  shall  they  grow  up  ornaments  to  society,  up- 
holders of  religion,  useful  and  intelligent  citizens  of  the  State.  Thus 
shall  they  bless  God  that  they  were  born  in  the  land  where  those 
celestial  maidens,  science  and  religion,  may  embrace  and  dwell  in 
peace  together.  Thus  shall  coming  generations  gaze  with  pride  and 
reverence  on  the  triumphs  of  intellect  wrought  by  their  forefathers, 
and  shall  characterize  the  work  we  do  to-day  as  blessed  of  God  and 
man,  and  a  shining  evidence  of  devotion  on  the  part  of  Catholics 
to  the  cause  of  Christian  education. 


VI. 

LAYING  OP  THE  CORNER-STONE  OF  THE  REFUGE 
OF  THE  SISTERS  OF  PEACE. 

JERSEY   CITY,   N.   J. 

Rt.  Rev.  MoNSEiaNEUR,  Rev,  Fathers,  Dear  Friends  : 

We  are  assembled  here  to-day  to  lay  the  foundations  of  a  work 
which  confers  honor  upon  humanity,  benefit  upon  this  community — 
a  work  that  is  approved  of  man  and  blessed  of  God.  In  the  pres- 
ence of  this  large  and  sympathetic  audience  gathered  here,  we  lay 
the  corner-stone  of  an  asylum  and  refuge  for  the  orphan  children  of 
this  great  city — orphans  who  will  be  tended  with  more  than  a 
mother's  tender  care  by  these  Sisters,  who  have 

"  For  sweet  charity's  sake  " 

devoted  the  unreserved  service  of  their  lives  to  the  God-like  work  of 
rescuing  the  strays  and  waifs  of  humanity,  not  merely  from  squalor 
and  starvation,  but  perhaps  from  a  career  of  crime,  and  from  that 
dismal  doom  to  which  the  children  of  want  and  misery  are  exposed 
in  every  land. 

Charity,  my  friends,  is  God's  darling  virtue,  and  it  is  one  of  the 
most  striking  and  potent  proofs  of  the  divinity  of  His  Church.  Her 
numerous  institutions  of  benevolence — her  hospitals,  her  reforma- 
tories, her  refuges  and  asylums,  and  her  countless  works  of  charity, 
which  spring  from  her  fecund  bosom,  like  flowers  from  their  native 
soil,  proclaim  her  to  be  inspired  with  the  divine  spirit  of  Him  who 
came  to  teach  mankind  the  unfathomable  love  upon  which  depended 
"  the  whole  law  and  the  prophets." 

In  the  name  of  the  sweet  charity  of  Christ  I  speak  to  you  to-day. 


529 

for  an  object  which  appeals  to  you  with  a  power  and  energy  which 
no  words  of  mine  can  intensify.  I  speak  not  in  the  hypocritical  ac- 
cents of  the  false  philanthropy  which  George  Eliot,  and  Mrs.  Hum- 
phrey Ward,  and  professors  of  the  new  creed  of  culture  have  adopt- 
ed as  the  gospel  of  humanity;  but  according  to  the  principle  that 
we  must  love  our  fellow-man  for  God's  sake,  and  for  the  image  of 
God  within  him.  But  the  empty  pretensions  of  modern  philanthropy 
must  be  disallowed,  for  in  place  of  the  fraternal  charity  inculcated 
by  our  divine  Redeemer,  it  substitutes  the  shadowy  semblance,  the 
miserable  subterfuge  of  human  interests  and  human  sympathies, 
which,  like  the  friendship  painted  by  the  poet, 

"  Is  but  a  name, 
A  charm  that  lulls  to  sleep; 
A  shade  that  follows  wealth  and  fame, 
And  leaves  the  wretch  to  weep." 

Such  philanthropy  is  devoid  of  supernatural  principle.  It  has  for 
its  basis  a  magnificent  egotism.  With  disgusting  ostentation  and 
lofty  patronage,  which  pains  much  more  than  it  relieves,  it  evolves 
fine-spun  theories  and  projects  great  schemes  for  the  succor  of  the 
indigent  and  the  distressed,  even  while  it  flings  the  starving  wretcli 
from  the  door,  to  die  in  the  gloom  of  the  workhouse  or  under  the 
cold  stars  of  heaven.  "  It  is  better  to  go  to  heaven  in  rags  than  to 
hell  in  embroidery,"  and  like  Lazarus,  who  was  gathered  into  Abra- 
ham's bosom,  while  Dives  was  buried  in  hell,  so  shall  many  of  the 
outcasts  of  society  be  exalted  into  glory  when  the  canting  and  self- 
sufficient  philanthropist  has  entered  the  everlasting  shades  of  Sheol. 
The  root  of  this  philanthropy  is  self.  Unlike  to  them  "  who  do  good 
by  stealth  and  blush  to  find  it  fame,"  vainglory  is  commonly  the 
motive  that  inspires  its  professors;  or,  at  best,  it  is  that  pernicious 
maxim  which  proclaims,  as  the  supreme  law,  the  greatest  good  of 
the  greatest  number.  Such  philanthropy  is  no  more  than  an  un- 
reasoning cult  of  man-worship,  and  it  is  the  embodiment  of  insin- 
cerity, Pharisaism,  tyranny,  and  selfishness.  It  puts  man  in  the 
place  of  God,  or,  what  is  equally  the  capsheaf  of  folly,  it  confounds 
God  with  His  creation,  and  that  practically  denies  His  existence. 

The  end  of  man  is  the  glory  of  God.     No  other  end  of  man's  cre- 
ation would  be  worthy  of  an  all- wise  and  infinite  God;  nor  can  an}' 
34 


530 

religion  find  favor  in  His  sight  which  will  not  excite  men  to  imitate 
and  practice  the  divine  benevolence,  the  divine  bounty,  the  divine 
generosity.  All  creation  invites  us  to  that  love  which  becomes  us  as 
the  children  of  God.  God  is  our  sole  and  sovereign  good.  His 
beneficence  is  illustrated  by  the  luxuriant  vale,  the  waving  harvest, 
and  the  fertilizing  stream.  The  expanseless  ocean,  the  starry  sky, 
the  earth  pouring  forth  her  teeming  fruits  in  proper  seasons,  are  all 
faint  reflections  of  infinite  goodness  and  beauty  and  tokens  of  God's 
love.  He  draws  us  to  Himself  by  "  the  chords  of  Adam  "  and  the 
bonds  of  love.  And  as  He  loves  us,  so  does  He  desire  that  we  love 
our  fellow-man. 

The  imperative  necessity  of  Christian  charity  was  repeatedly  en- 
forced by  His  own  blessed  lips,  and  when  death  was  about  to  sepa- 
rate Him  from  the  dear  disciples  of  His  love.  He  left  them  as  an  im- 
perishable legacy,  as  the  badge  of  brotherhood  and  affiliation  in  His 
Church,  the  precept  of  fraternal  charity,  which  embodied  the  prac- 
tice of  benevolence,  the  relief  of  the  poor,  the  needy,  the  outcast, 
the  sorrow-stricken,  and  afflicted  sons  of  humanity.  Wherefore,  He 
said  to  them  in  the  most  touching  and  pathetic  language  that  the 
tender  and  paternal  solicitude  of  His  divine  heart  could  inspire :  "  A 
little  while  I  am  with  you;  little  children,  love  one  another.  A  new 
commandment  I  give  to  you,  that  you  love  one  another.  By  this 
shall  aU  men  know  that  you  are  My  disciples,  that  you  have  love  for 
one  another." 

But  what  gave  power  to  His  precept,  point  to  His  persuasion,  and 
force  to  His  commands,  was  the  sweet  attractiveness  of  His  own 
illustrious  example,  the  incomparable  charity  and  boundless  com- 
passion of  His  own  divine  heart.  For  conjoined  with  the  beneficent 
purpose  of  securing  our  redemption,  He  descended  from  His  throne 
of  glory  upon  this  earth  to  cast  a  halo  of  peace  and  happiness 
around  the  squalid  lives  of  the  wretched  and  miserable;  to  cheer  the 
sad  and  broken-hearted;  to  raise  the  fallen  and  the  erring,  and  to 
spread  the  light  of  heavenly  sunshine  along  the  rugged  path  of 
them  who  drooped  and  pined  under  the  cold  world's  scorn  and 
neglect,  the  proud  man's  contumely,  and  the  supercilious  contempt 
of  creatures  fashioned  by  the  hand  of  the  same  God  out  of  the  same 
common  clay.  And  as  if  to  allure  us  to  obedience  to  His  behests, 
behold  He  holds  out  to  us  the  rich  promise  of  magnanimous  re- 


531 

wards,  and  emphatically  affirms  that  on  the  final  judgment  day, 
when  all  mankind  shall  stand  before  His  throne  of  judgment,  each 
to  receive  sentence  according  to  the  deeds  done  in  the  flesh,  those 
words  of  celestial  consolation,  "  Come,  ye  blessed  of  My  Father,  pos- 
sess the  kingdom  prepared  for  you  from  the  foundation  of  the  world," 
shall  be  spoken  to  those  who  showed  mercy  to  Himself  in  the  person 
of  the  poor.  "Amen,  I  say  unto  you;  inasmuch  as  you  have  done 
it  unto  one  of  the  least,  my  little  ones,  you  have  also  done  it  unto  Me." 

In  His  name,  then,  do  I  appeal  to  you  to-day — in  the  name  of 
Him  who  is  still  the  healer,  the  consoler,  and  the  comforter  of  man- 
kind— of  Him  who  is  still  the  good  Samaritan  to  lift  up  the  fallen, 
and  the  good  Shepherd  who  layeth  down  His  life  for  the  sheep; 
who  leaveth  the  ninety  and  nine  in  the  desert  to  seek  out  the  soli- 
tary one  that  was  lost.  In  fine,  I  plead  in  the  name  of  Him  who 
styles  Himself,  and  loves  to  be  styled,  the  Father  of  the  poor,  the 
Protector  of  the  widow,  and  the  dread  and  implacable  Avenger  of 
the  wronged  orphan's  teai's. 

God  can  "  command  the  very  stones  to  be  made  bread."  The 
birds  of  the  air  and  the  lilies  of  the  field  are  fed  and  clothed  by  the 
unseen  Arm  above  and  the  earth  beneath  them.  '*  Who  provideth 
food  for  the  raven,  when  its  little  ones  cry  to  God  wandering  about 
because  they  have  no  meat  ? "  He  can  cause  the  earth  to  shoot 
forth  her  fostering  fruits  at  the  tread  of  the  pauper's  footsteps,  and 
the  green  blades  of  com  to  ripen  at  the  touch  of  the  orphan's 
finger.  The  poverty  of  His  children  He  can  turn  to  boundless 
affluence  if  He  gathers  them  under  the  shadow  of  His  sheltering 
wings.  But  those  whom  He  so  loves.  He  entrusts  to  the  care  of 
others.  His  own  divine  Son  had  not  whereon  to  lay  His  head,  nor 
the  wherewithal  to  feed  His  mouth.  The  night  wept  her  dews  upon 
His  sacred  head,  and  His  locks  were  hoar  with  the  mists  of  the 
moraing.  In  the  grey  twilight  of  the  garden  the  cold  wind 
whistled  upon  His  shrinking,  shivering  form.  He  entered  the  world 
as  He  left  it,  poor  and  humble  and  despised.  His  cradle  was  a 
manger.  His  house  a  stall  for  cattle;  His  robes  were  swaddling- 
clothes  in  infancy  and  faded  purple  raiment  in  manhood,  and  His 
grave  was  the  tomb  of  a  stranger. 

According  to  the  dispositions  of  God's  providence,  man,  to  a  large 
extent,  is  dependent  upon  the  charity  of  his  fellow-man.     It  is  His 


532 

desire  that  the  school  of  poverty  should  be  the  nursery  of  virtue,  and 
He  therefore  makes  the  maintenance  of  the  poor  a  charge  upon  the 
charity  of  the  rich,  and  those  more  signally  blessed  with  the  good 
gifts  of  God.  The  owners,  therefore,  of  what  St.  Paul  calls  the  sub- 
stance of  this  world,  are  bound  before  God  "  to  give  alms  of  their 
bounty,  and  do  the  deeds  of  charity  and  mercy." 

I  am  not  of  those  who  idly  declaim  against  the  possession  of 
wealth,  and,  indeed,  I  hold  but  a  poor  opinion  of  the  man  whom 
opportunity,  economy,  and  industry  will  not  carry  along  the  road, 
not  to  luxury  and  affluence,  but  at  least  to  competence.  Deeply  to 
be  deplored,  indeed,  is  that  shiftless  and  improvident  spirit  which 
has  led  many  of  our  Irish  Catholics,  scattered  over  the  broad  acres 
of  this  continent,  to  penury  and  want  and  rags,  aye,  and  to  greater 
miseries  of  vice  and  degradation,  too,  when  to-day  they  might  be  no 
longer  hewers  of  wood  and  drawers  of  water,  but  masters  of  that 
elevation  and  refinement  which  wealth  alone  can  procure.  Riches  in 
themselves  are  an  essential  good,  and  if  rightly  used  are  productive 
of  manifold  blessings,  moral  and  material,  to  mankind. 

But  the  fortunate  possessors  of  this  world's  goods  should  "  make 
to  themselves  friends  of  the  mammon  of  iniquity  that  God  may  re- 
ceive them  in  the  evil  day  into  everlasting  dwellings."  "For  alms," 
says  Tobias,  "  delivereth  from  death;  and  the  same  is  that  which 
purgeth  away  sin,  and  maketh  to  find  mercy  and  life  everlasting." 
God  will  confer  supernatural  blessings  in  abundance  upon  those  who 
pour  out  their  substance  in  providing  for  the  homeless,  the  father- 
less, the  unfortunate,  and  the  poor.  "  He  that  giveth  to  the  poor 
lendeth  to  the  Lord,  and  He  will  repay  him."  Give  a  cup  of  cold 
water  for  Christ's  sake,  and  take  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  The  hand 
of  the  giver  is  blessed  in  return  for  the  blessings  he  bestows  on 
others.     And  oh !  my  friends, 

"It  is  a  little  thing 
^     To  give  a  cup  of  water;  yet  its  draught 

Of  cool  refreshment,  drained  hy  fevered  lips, 
May  send  a  shock  of  pleasure  to  the  soul 
More  exquisite  than  when  nectareous'juice 
Renews  the  life  of  joy  in  happier  hours. 
'Tis  a  little  thing  to  speak  some  common  word 
Of  comfort,  which  had  almost  lost  its  use, 
Yet,  on  the  ear  of  him  who  thought  to  die 
Unmoumed,  'twill  fall  like  choicest  music." 


533 

There  are  men  in  existence  (but,  thank  heaven !  for  humanity's 
sake  they  are  few)  whose  hearts  have  been  hardened  by  contact  with 
an  unfeeling  world  where  the  weaker  goes  to  the  wall,  and  whose 
sympathies  have  been  stifled  by  the  carking  cares  of  flesh  and  blood, 
and  the  griping  greed  of  avarice  and  selfishness.  In  the  cold  cyn- 
icism of  heathenism,  tenderness  was  treated  with  contempt,  and 
Roman  sternness  and  Spartan  severity  are  proverbial.  The  religion 
of  Christ  sowed  the  seed  of  a  new  principle  and  a  new  impulse  in 
the  human  heart, — the  impulse  of  charity,  as  embodied  in  the  precept 
of  a  loving  Jesus.  "  By  this  shall  all  men  know  that  you  are  My 
disciples,  if  you  have  love  for  one  another." 

But  I  am  encouraged  to  ask  your  charity  to-day  because  I  know 
that  I  address  my  appeal  to  kind  and  sympathetic  hearts.  You  are 
Christians,  sensible  of  the  obligations  which  your  very  means  impose 
upon  you ;  you  are  followers  of  a  mild  and  merciful,  as  well  as  a 
good  and  generous  Jesus.  And  your  charity  I  crave  in  suppoi-t  of 
a  work  which  engages  the  loving  labors  of  those  who  have  "  left  all 
things"  to  follow  in  the  footsteps  of  the  Master;  of  those  whom  it 
is  your  inestimable  privilege  to  have  here  spending  their  energies, 
with  uncalculating  devotion  and  with  no  hope  of  earthly  recom- 
pense, for  the  poor  outcast  waifs  of  this  community.  Sisters  of 
Peace  they  truly  are,  and  angels  of  mercy,  too.  Aye,  apostles  of 
Charity — exercising  a  charity  which  has  come  straight  from  the 
open  side  of  Jesus  Christ  upon  the  cross;  a  chai'ity  which  is  watered 
by  the  tears  of  a  suffering  Saviour  and  washed  to  heavenly  bright- 
ness by  the  red  blood  of  a  bleeding  God;  a  charity  which  is  doubly 
ennobled  by  its  purpose  and  by  its  performers.  These  women  are  moral 
heroines,  who  illustrate  by  their  lives  the  Gospel  of  Christianity  and 
glorify  by  their  deeds  the  Church  of  God.  .  They  hold  the  luminous 
lamp  of  charity  so  high,  that,  like  a  beacon  of  beatitude,  it  may  shine 
upon  the  eyes  of  all,  that  others  may  "  behold  it  from  afar  and  walk 
in  the  brightness  of  its  rising."  They  come  to  arouse  the  world  from 
its  sleep  of  death  to  a  life  of  zeal  and  piety,  and  for  that  world  they 
toil  like  galley-slaves  only  to  conquer  it  for  Christ.  Night  and  day,  as 
angels  of  light  and  sweetness,  they  seek  out  their  God-appointed  task, 
cooling  the  parched  lip,  moistening  the  burning  brow,  and  pouring 
balm  into  the  bruised  and  bleeding  heart.  Like  the  foster-father 
of  Ephraim,  they  bear  their  precious   burden  of   infant  humanity 


534 

upon  their  shoulders,  clasp  it  to  their  breasts,  shelter  it  against  the 
unpi tying  storm,  and  fondly  place  it  in  the  little  crib  of  the  found- 
ling asylum,  where  it  is  rocked  to  slumber  by  the  more  than  motherly 
touch  of  their  gentle,  loving  hands.  A  Caesar  or  a  Hannibal  comes 
to  conquer  with  sword  and  shield;  but  they  come  by  the  power  of 
the  Most  High,  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  vice  and  misery 
flee  before  them  like  chaff  before  the  autumn  gale.  As  long,  my 
friends,  as  the  heart  of  humanity  throbs  with  the  admiration  of 
great  deeds,  as  long  as  what  is  high  and  noble  has  a  claim  upon  the 
souls  of  men,  so  long  shall  these  queens  of  creation  be  held  in  honor 
and  benediction;  so  long  shall  their  cry  for  help  reach  the  chambers 
of  our  soul  in  tones  that  touch  and  thrill;  so  long  shall  the  majestic 
story  of  their  lives  never  grow  old,  the  frost  of  centuries  will  not 
conceal  its  charm,  for  it  will  remain  to  console  and  to  refresh,  like 
the  shadow  of  a  great  rock  in  a  weary  land,  never  to  pass  away  till 
the  heavens  are  folded  up  and  time  itself  expires  in  the  arms  of 
eternity. 

"  Who  gives  himself  with  his  alms  feeds  three: 
Himself,  his  hungering  brother,  and  Me. " 

And  how  appealing  is  the  object  of  their  charity.  Some  seem  to 
be  such  favorites  of  fortune  that  they  appear  to  be  sent  into  a  world 
made  for  their  special  benefit.  As  they  grow  up  they  are  sur- 
rounded with  softness  and  security.  When  they  fall,  they  fall  upon 
down;  when  they  walk,  they  are  supported  by  the  arms  of  affection. 
All  they  have  to  do  is  to  pluck  life's  rosebuds  before  they  wither  and 
gather  life's  flowers  before  they  fade.  Others  seem  ill-starred  from 
their  cradle.  Want  and  misery  watch  their  ushering  into  life,  sor- 
row beclouds  their  days,  -and  grief  attends  them  to  the  grave.  But 
of  all  forms  of  human  misery,  what  can  equal  the  orphan's  woe  ? 
Every  stream  of  joylessness  pours  its  bitterness  into  the  cup  that  is 
lifted  to  its  little  lips.  Every  joy  and  every  hope  it  buries  in  its 
parents'  tomb.  It  knows  not  a  father's  kindness  nor  a  mother's 
melting  love.  It  is  the  very  personification  of  weakness,  helpless- 
ness, and  misery.  No  one  to  tend  them,  no  one  to  rescue  them 
from  ruin  and  vice,  no  one  to  care  for  them  but  the  pitying  angels 
above,  and  the  angels  of  mercy  whom  God  sent  to  guard  them  on 
earth.     How  many  on  this  bleak  day  within  sound  of  the  bells  that 


535 

thrill  the  church  steeples  with  music  and  call  God's  people  to  prayer, 
are  gnawed  by  hunger  and  crouch  in  cheerless  hovels,  abandoned 
to  hopelessness  and  despair  ? 

To  you,  good  Christian  hearts,  they  appeal  with  "  strong  crying 
and  tears  "  to-day.  "  Take  this  child,  nurse  it,  and  I  will  give  thee 
thy  wages."  As  Pharaoh's  daughter  spake  to  the  mother  of  Moses, 
so  God  speaks  to  you.  "  Take  these  httle  waifs,  take  them  from 
cold,  misery,  and  starvation;  take  them  from  a  heartless  and 
careless  world;  take  them  from  temptation,  sin,  and  eternal  death, 
and  I  will  crown  the  charity  with  eternal  recompense  and  glory 
that  shall  never  fade."  Blessed,  thrice  blessed,  is  that  man  for 
whom  the  orphan's  hands  are  Hfted  up  in  prayer.  When  you, 
my  friends,  are  seated  at  your  firesides  in  the  calm  and  quiet 
enjoyment  of  your  own  happy  homes,  God  grant  that  then  the 
grateful  prayers  of  sorrow's  children  may  be  wafted  by  the  gentle 
breezes  of  heaven  to  the  throne  of  the  High  and  Mighty  One.  And 
when  the  last  moments  of  your  transitory  existence  are  at  hand; 
when  all  mundane  magnificence  is  passing  forever  from  your  view; 
when  your  dreams  and  hopes  are  of  a  better  and  a  fairer  land,  may 
the  charity  of  the  deed  you  do  to-day  in  helping  to  raise  this  shelter 
for  the  homeless  and  friendless,  inscribe  your  names  in  golden  letters 
upon  the  Book  of  Life,  and  secure  you  the  unspeakable  joy  and  un- 
broken felicity  promised  to  those  who  have  fed  the  hungry,  clothed 
the  naked,  healed  the  sick,  sheltered  the  houseless,  and  given  drink 
to  the  thirsty. 

And  may  the  blessing  of  God  and  the  Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ  descend  in  loving  mercy  upon  you  this  day;  upon  you  and 
upon  your  families,  your  children,  your  friends,  your  absent 
brethren.  May  the  angel  of  white-winged  peace  alight  upon  your 
domestic  altar;  may  prosperity  smile  upon  all  your  undertakings 
and  success  sweeten  all  your  labors;  may  fraternal  charity  link  all 
your  hearts  together  in  the  benign  brotherhood  of  love;  may  faith 
and  hope  give  inspiration  to  your  thoughts,  light  to  your  under- 
standings, and  the  fire  of  holy  zeal  to  your  hearts,  till  these  few 
fleeting  years  be  past,  the  trials  of  life  be  over,  and  you  behold  the 
glad  sunrise  of  that  eternal  morn  which  dies  no  more  in  God's  fair 
paradise. 


DESCRIPTIVE  AND 

MISCELLAKEOUS. 


STORM   IN   THE   ROCKIES.— MOUNTAIN   OF   THE 
HOLY  CROSS. 

SoMi;  summers  since  I  climbed  the  rock-built  breasts  of  earth  that 
make  the  mighty  mountains  of  the  West.  Amid  beetling  cliffs  and 
frowning  crags  I  heard  the  swift  autumnal  gale  rush  round  the 
eternal  rocks  in  a  wail  of  lamentation,  and  the.  distant  cataract's  roar 
resound  through  shaggy  woods  in  solemn  dirge,  like  the  voice  of 
Eolus  upcoming  from  the  deadly  shades  of  Orcus'  gloom. 

Ketreating  along  an  Alpine  avenue  of  green  and  glorious  pros- 
pect, the  everlasting  snows  shimmered  above  my  head  like  belts  of 
silver  light,  while  the  forest  flowers  were  springing  spontaneously  at 
my  feet  till  the  greensward  lost  its  verdure  with  violets,  and  moun- 
tain-roses, red  as  the  blush  of  dawn,  and  on  the  hillsides  the 
vagrant  vines  empurpled  with  laughing  clusters  of  wild  grapes  lifted 
their  ruby  lips  to  kiss  the  borders  of  the  wintry  snow.  Strange 
union  of  Spring  and  Winter, — of  frost-bound  sterihty  and  luxuriant 
vegetation.  In  far  prospect  rose  the  blue  hills,  range  on  range,  and 
spur  on  spur,  at  every  imaginary  angle,  to  bathe  their  cent ury-fun*o wed 
brows  in  the  sunshine;  and  the  lengthening  shadows  of  the  day's 
decline  softened  the  singular  beauties  that  clustered  about  me  into 
a  sober  sadness,  as  they  rose  erect  in  the  majesty  of  silent  repose,  in 
the  naked  sublimity  of  soHtary  grandeur. 

But  how  wide  and  sharp  the  contrast  between  the  placid  beauty 
that  decked  the  unbroken  solitude  with  its  sweetest  gems,  and  glad- 
dened the  monarch  hills  where  the  keen-eyed  eagle  builds  and 
reigns,  and  the  scene  of  hoar  austerity  and  rugged  desolation  that 
soon  environed  me.  Wending  my  way  along  as  chance  dictated,  I 
was  suddenly  encompassed  by  sheer  perpendicular  walls  mounting 
a  thousand  feet  in  air,  and  buried  in  the  dim  and  shallow  yastneas 


540 

of  the  Royal  Gorge  of  the  Arkansas.  The  heavens  appeared  shut 
down  upon  my  head,  and  I  was  left  alone  with  nature  and  with 
God.  No  voice  spake  in  the  solemn  silence,  no  sound  stirred  that 
native  stillness  that  cast  its  thrall  upon  my  spirit,  save  the  flow  of 
the  torrent  as  it  dashed  along  to  leave  those  inhospitable  wilds. 
Affrighted  fancy  ran  riot  in  my  brain  and  conjured  shapes  and 
forms,  grewsome,  dismal,  and  fantastic.  The  heavens  had  previously 
been  clear  as  a  sheet  of  crystal,  or  the  white  marble  of  Carrara. 
The  sun  had  shone  in  the  pure  blue  vault  with  singular  lustre,  but 
now  was  covered  with  a  pall  of  portentous  blackness.  The  storm- 
king  was  riding  on  the  ambient  air,  his  chariot  drawn  by  the  ele- 
mental Furies.  The  mad  lightning  tears  the  darkness  with  trident 
tongues  of  fire,  and  the  first  glaring  flash  was  followed  by  a  ponder- 
ous peal  that  seemed  to  shake  the  foundations  of  the  mountains,  and 
was  long  reverberated  through  the  clefts  and  caverns  of  the  Royal 
Gorge.  I  saw  it  shoot  along  the  ragged  heights,  not  less  broken  or 
abrupt  than  its  own  fiery  track.  I  saw  the  lurid  gleam  dispel  for  an 
instant  the  inky  blackness,  and  reveal  the  shining  summits  and 
glowing  pinnacles  of  the  precipices,  standing  like  si)ectral  sentinels 
in  the  front  of  some  gigantic  army.  Under  a  circular  canopy  of 
crimson  cloud  I  seemed  to  see  the  Wind-God  sitting  on  his  nebulous 
throne,  not  in  tranquil  majesty,  but  in  the  puissance  of  his  venge- 
ance, with  a  righteous  indignation  blazing  on  his  countenance. 
In  uplifted  hand  he  held  a  sheaf  of  thunder-bolts,  flaming 
with  the  lurid  lightning  which  he  hurled  with  crushing  energy 
against  the  adamantine  mountains.  Ah !  never  was  my  mind  so 
forcibly  impressed  with  the  Creator's  might  and  omnipotence. 
Every  flower  is  a  hint  of  His  beauty.  His  beneficence  is  illustrated 
by  the  luxuriant  vale,  the  waving  harvest,  and  the  fertilizing  stream; 
but,  here,  rock  piled  on  rock,  mountain  poised  on  mountain,  the 
rugged  inaccessible  heights,  the  resistless  torrent,  and  the  tempest's 
terrible  rush  and  roar, — all  bespoke,  with  trumpet  tongue,  that  Power 
that  moulds  and  arranges  matter  as  He  will.  How  vast,  how  magnifi- 
cent is  nature !  How  insignificant  is  the  material  part  of  him,  that  lit- 
tle being,  for  whom  nevei-theless  all  has  been  created.  How  striking  is 
the  inference  that  the  soul,  the  spiritual  essence,  is  the  nobler  part, 
as  it  should  be  the  chief  care  of  man.  Font  nuhilia  Phoebus  !  The 
storm  soon  subsided,  and  amid  the  alternate  mist  and  sunshine  a 


541 

radiant  rainbow  began  to  gild  the  gloom  and  spread  his  arch  with 
all  its  glorious  and  transj^arent  hues  across  the  fleecy  whiteness  of 
the  snow-capped  crags.  The  sun  poured  forth  his  heavenly  dyes 
with  ineffable  tenderness  and  beauty,  as  if  nature  dipped  her  pencil 
in  celestial  colors,  and  drew  it  across  the  sky  with  a  hand  as  gentle 
and  as  delicate  as  Love's.  The  mountains  now  flung  darkness  from 
them  like  a  discarded  mantle  floating  in  many  a  careless  fold  and 
break  of  shadow,  and  bowed  theii'  mist-crowned  heads  in  parting 
salutation  to  the  lord  of  light  ere  he  sank  to  slumber  on  the  pillow 
of  night.  Emerging  from  the  gloom  of  the  gorge  I  stood  in  silence 
to  pay  my  homage  on  this  lofty  Altar  of  Nature  and  of  God,  when 
lo !  as  the  seal  and  wanant  of  my  worship,  there  breaks  upon  my 
vision,  my  first  view  of  the  Mountain  of  the  Holy  Cross. 

On  the  crest  of  this  continent  it  stands  to  tell  the  ages  that  the 
country  of  Columbus  is  the  heritage  of  Christ; — ^the  blood-bought 
patrimony  of  Him  who,  ere  He  died  upon  the  tree  of  the  Cross, 
had  said,  "  If  I  be  lifted  up,  I  will  draw  all  with  Me." 


II. 

BATTLE  OF  THE  INVISIBLE  POWERS. 

The  sixtli  chapter  of  St.  Paul  to  the  Ephesians,  in  graphic  and 
vivid  language,  depicts  the  nature  of  the  spiritual  struggle  which 
every  soldier  who  follows  the  standard  of  Jesus  Christ  is  called  upon 
to  wage  war  before  he  can  claim  the  incorruptible  crown  of  the 
Christian  conqueror.  The  Apostle,  in  his  usual  grandeur  of  expres- 
sion and  sublimity  of  thought,  at  one  and  the  same  time  indicates 
the  character  of  the  contest  and  the  conditions  of  the  victory.  The 
valiant  soldier  of  Christ  must  be  strengthened  in  the  Lord  and  in 
the  might  of  His  power;  he  must  put  on  the  armor  of  God,  which 
signifies  that  he  is  to  stand  firm  and  immovable  against  the  shock 
and  onset  of  the  enemy,  having  his  loins  girt  about  with  truth;  hav- 
ing on  the  breastplate  of  justice,  and  his  feet  shod  with  the  prepa- 
ration of  the  Gospel  of  peace;  in  all  things  taking  the  shield  of  faith 
wherewith  he  may  be  able  to  extinguish  all  the  fiery  darts  of  the 
most  wicked  one;  taking  on  the  helmet  of  salvation  sCnd  holding  in 
his  good  right  hand  the  sword  of  the  Spirit,  which  is  the  word  of 
God. 

By  this  noble  and  figurative  speech  the  Apostle  plainly  shows 
what  the  Old  Testament  so  frequently  declares,  that  life  is  indeed  a 
warfare,  with  the  warrior  mailed.  The  Captain  of  our  salvation  Him- 
self apprizes  us  that  He  came  not  to  send  peace,  bvit  the  sword  upon 
the  earth.  He,  the  King  of  mankird,  has  raised  His  royal  standard 
before  the  eyes  of  the  universe;  for  nineteen  centuries  it  has  floated 
over  the  world;  He  invites  all  men  to  follow,  and  He  promises  an 
immortal  crown  as  the  price  of  the  victory.  Thus  "the  root  of 
Jesse  has  become  an  ensign  unto  all  ihe  people."  The  royal  road  of 
the  cross  is  not  strewn  with  the  roses  of  rest  and  the  flowers  of  tran- 
quillity; it  lies  not  through  the  pleasant,  smiling  fields  of  prosperit}^ 


543 

but  it  is  made  rough  and  sharp  and  rugged  with  the  briars  of  afflic- 
tion, the  thorns  of  adversity,  and  its  stones  are  splotched  with  the 
ensanguined  feet  of  those  who  have  struggled  and  fought  along  its 
weary  way.  As  we  lift  our  eyes  we  behold  in  fancy's  mirror  the 
long  and  innumerable  train  of  the  souls  of  the  just  made  perfect 
who  have  passed  along  this  dolorous  way,  and  who,  through  many 
tribulations,  have  worked  their  way  into  the  kingdom  of  God. 
Moses  doffed  his  shoes  at  Horeb's  burning  bush  only  to  plod  it  bare- 
foot till  he  climbed  up  to  God  from  Phasga's  solitary  height.  Abra- 
ham and  Isaac  and  Jacob,  the  seers,  the  sages,  and  the  patriarchs; 
valiant  Joshua  and  holy  Samuel;  Solomon  the  wise,  Samson  the 
strong,  David  the  inspired,  Jeremias  the  sorrowful,  Ezechiel  the 
eagle-eyed,  Isaac  the  rapt  and  subHme,  Judith  the  valiant,  Esther 
the  beautiful,  Job  the  afflicted,  kings,  rulers,  and  sovereigns,  and 
subjects  have  trodden  with  pierced  hearts  and  bleeding  feet  through 
the  same  gateway  of  sorrow  and  suffering.  Behold,  likewise,  the 
long  procession  of  ermined  virgins,  pale-faced  confessors,  red-robed 
martyrs,  and  shining  apostles  whom  Christ  redeemed  unto  God  by 
His  blood,  wending  its  way  over  the  same  rugged  steeps,  toiling 
along  the  same  prickly  paths,  scaling  the  mountain  of  son*ow,  till 
finally  they  sat  down  in  the  verdant  valleys  of  that  far-away  land 
where  there  is  no  darkness  and  no  death;  where  there  is  no  twilight 
gloom;  where  not  merely  gems  of  night  engirdle  silver  moons,  but 
where  in  placid  grandeur  and  matchless  splendor  the  eternal  sun  of 
noon  beams  down  its  genial,  kindly  light  through  the  bright  and 
perennial  day  of  eternity. 

And  now  they  rest  from  their  labors;  for  their  works  have  fol- 
lowed them.  Inebriated  with  the  torrent  of  delights  that  flow  from 
the  fullness  of  God's  house,  they  hunger  not,  nor  thirst,  any  more. 
Under  their  own  vine  and  fig-tree  they  take  surcease  from  toil  upon 
the  green  turf  of  Paradise,  beneath  the  sweet  and  sheltering  crook 
of  the  good  Shepherd  who  unbarred  unto  them  the  gates  of  His 
heavenly  fold.  Pain,  sorrow,  and  affliction  have  lost  their  sting.  No 
more  they  know  the  voices  of  want,  the  pangs  of  povei*ty,  and  the 
gloom  of  exile.  Friendless,  alone,  and  forsaken,  poor  and  outcast 
and  despised,  they  breasted  the  rough  current  of  earthly  strife 
through  many  aching  years;  now  in  the  happy  mansions  of  the 
blessed,  they  are  glorified  with  its  brightness  of   immortality ;  in 


544 

those  serene  and  tranquil  regions  the  white  light  of  heaven,  shooting 
from  the  unclouded  splendor  of  the  Lamb,  shines  upon  them;  they 
wear  the  crowns  woven  by  angel  hands;  they  sing  the  songs  that 
angels  sing;  they  hear  the  songs  of  God  make  joyful  melody;  they 
are  exalted,  as  the  cedars  of  Lebanon;  they  breathe  the  balmy,  in- 
cense-laden air  of  the  celestial  country;  they  are  counted  among 
the  children  of  God,  and  among  the  Saints  is  their  happy  lot  for 
eternity. 

Such,  indeed,  is  the  glory  of  their  triumph.  But  they  suffered 
before  they  entered  into  glory;  their  sufferings  were  short,  but  of 
their  glory  there  shall  be  no  end.  They  struggled  before  they  bore 
away  the  victory;  they  stood  strong  in  the  strife;  they  fought  the 
good  fight;  they  kept  the  faith,  and  thus  they  finished  their  course 
in  honor  and  everlasting  renown. 

We  are  equally  the  sons  of  God,  called  to  the  same  combat;  en- 
gaged in  the  same  strife;  fighting  for  the  same  crown;  and  hoping 
for  the  same  reward  in  the  same  heavenly  kingdom.  We  are  equally 
the  soldiers  of  Jesus  Christ.  "  Facere  et  pati  romanum  est,"  ex- 
claimed the  loyal  subject  of  proud,  imperial  Rome: — To  act  and  to 
suffer  is  the  duty  of  the  Boman  citizen;  but  with  greater  force  and 
truth  than  could  be  spoken  by  any  pagan  mouth,  it  is  the  province 
of  the  Christian  citizen  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  to  act  and  suffer  for 
the  sake  of  Christ,  with  invincible  constancy  and  firmness,  as  long  as 
life  shall  last.  Nor  does  death,  the  arbiter  of  most  contests,  close 
the  struggle.  The  age-long  enemy  of  our  salvation  defies  even 
death  to  wrest  from  him  his  victim.  Lucifer,  the  genius  of  evil  and 
prince  of  darkness,  during  life's  hot  warfare,  raises  his  sable  stand- 
ard in  ojoposition  to  the  ensign  of  Jesus  Christ.  Like  unto  the 
Philistines,  who  came  forth  against  the  children  of  Israel,  he  pitches 
his  camp  in  view  of  the  camp  of  Christ,  and  sounds  hell's  bugle- 
blast  to  rally  his  myrmidons  against  the  followers  of  the  Nazarene. 
For,  as  the  Apostle  tells  us,  "  Our  wrestling  is  not  against  flesh  and 
blood  merely,  but  against  principalities  and  powers,  against  the 
rulers  of  this  world  of  darkness,  and  against  the  spirits  of  the 
wickedness  in  high  places."  But  the  end  is  not  yet;  for,  as  it  is 
a  spiritual  struggle,  it  is  carried  on  beyond  this  fierce  kingdom  of 
war,  into  the  world  where  spirits  in  dread  spectral  array  are  mar- 
shalled against  spirits,  and  hard  by  the  very  throne  of  God,  in  open 


545 

view  of  all  the  heavenly  hosts,  the  undaunted  cohorts  of  Satan  seek 
to  exert  their  empire,  and  snatch  the  trembling,  fluttering  soul  from 
the  everlasting  arms  of  its  Creator. 

It  is  upon  this  last  terrible  onset,  this  struggle  unto  death,  that  we 
would  invite  our  readers  to  cast  an  earnest  eye.  The  idea  of  this 
struggle  is  not  unwai'ranted  by  Scripture,  and  is  even  hinted  at  in 
the  Epistle  just  cited;  but  in  order  to  form  a  more  lively  and  vivid 
conception  of  the  scene,  so  fraught  with  moment  to  us  all,  we  do  not 
consider  it  amiss  to  invoke  the  ^DOwers  of  imagination  to  properly 
portray  the  picture. 

No  sooner  shall  the  soul  cast  off  the  corruptible  clog  of  the  body, 
whose  gravity  now  binds  it  to  the  earth,  than  the  disembodied  spirit 
shall  soar  far  beyond  its  present  sphere.  With  the  eagle  eye  of 
fancy  we  shall  follow  on  its  course.  Far  beyond  the  confines  of  the 
solar  system,  and  the  extreme  Hmit  of  the  orbit  of  the  most  eccentric 
comet,  the  soul  is  impelled  by  an  invisible  and  irresistible  power. 
Having  traversed  the  wide  domain  of  space,  there  breaks  upon  its 
vision  a  plain  of  such  amazing  magnitude,  that  no  mortal  faculties 
can  comprehend  its  vastness,  and  from  its  outer  bounds  there  rises  a 
circle  of  mountains  whose  summits  pierce  the  gauzy  clouds  of  that 
ethereal  region.  The  soft  and  silky  grass,  like  velvet  to  the  touch, 
robes  the  plain  in  its  emerald  mantle,  and  from  its  green  bosom, 
flowers  of  unearthly  beauty  upspring  in  plenteous  profusion,  fling 
their  fragrance  on  the  warm  and  balmy  air.  The  palm,  the  olive, 
and  the  graceful  vine  bloom  in  abundance,  and  their  bending  boughs, 
pendant  with  fruits  and  blossoms,  overshadow  the  crystal  streams 
that  flow  in  soft  murmurs  by  their  feet.  In  the  blue  haze  beyond 
are  beheld  the  glistening  outlines  of  a  great  and  gorgeous  cit3\  Tyre 
and  Babylon  are  as  hamlets  in  comparison  therewith.  It  is  older  than 
Memphis  of  immemorial  time,  happier  than  joyous  Nineveh;  Rome, 
or  Athens,  or  hundred-gated  Thebes,  in  all  their  glory,  fade  into  in- 
significance by  the  side  of  its  matchless  beauty  and  dazzling  splen- 
dor. Golden  glows  from  sublime  sunsets  shed  richest  radiance  on 
its  domes  and  towers,  and  tip  with  sapphire  fire  its  tuiTets,  steeples, 
and  minarets. 

As  the  soul  is  gazing  on  this  spectacle,  there  suddenly  breaks  forth 
a  wild  burst  of  music,  which  floats  downward  upon  the  breeze;  it  is 
grand,  sublime,  and  majestic,  as  if  it  embodied  in  its  strains  the 
•        35 


546 

mighty  contest  of  unseen  and  invisible  powers.  The  city  gates  fling 
wide  open,  and  an  innumerable  multitude  of  glorious  beings  pour 
out  like  the  waves  of  the  sea  upon  the  plains.  The  banners  of  the 
cross,  the  ensigns  of  salvation,  burn  like  fire  all  along  those  living 
lines.  Column  after  column,  rank  after  rank,  they  march  along,  till 
that  wide-extended  plain  is  covered  with  an  interminable  sea  of  life. 
Now  they  take  their  stand  at  the  bidding  of  their  commander,  and 
flanked  along  the  hillsides  of  the  unbounded  valley,  the  vast  as- 
semblage turns  its  glances  upon  the  soul  with  a  tender  and  troubled 
regard.  In  the  hush  of  expectation,  a  sound,  as  the  blast  of  a 
mighty  trumpet,  rings  out  of  a  pillar  of  inscrutable  cloud,  which  casts 
its  shadows  upon  the  scene.  It  is  the  voice  of  the  angel  of  illumin- 
ation, come  to  enlighten  that  soul  upon  the  glorious  works  of  God. 
Touching  its  eyes,  the  scales  of  darkness  fall  away,  and  an  all-pene- 
trating power  of  vision  and  conception  is  communicated.  As  far  as 
the  immensity  of  space  extends  it  can  behold  suns,  worlds,  systems, 
comets,  planets,  satellites,  revolving,  wheel  within  wheel,  system 
within  system,  in  solemn  and  ceaseless  harmony,  about  the  throne  of 
the  Almighty;  and  awestruck,  it  listens  to  the  angel's  voice,  "Raise 
thine  eyes,  O  child  of  Adam,  and  behold  the  wondrous  works  of  God. 
See  now  those  countless  spheres,  tenanted  by  troops  of  living 
creatures,  all  differing  in  intellectual  and  corporeal  life.  See  the  se- 
cret workings  and  hidden  springs  of  those  eternal  laws  which  govern 
the  economy  of  nature,  the  harmony  of  the  universe,  and  which 
so  bewilder  thy  proudest  speculations  and  thy  self-sufficient  philos- 
ophy. See  how  the  previsions  of  Omnipotence  are  realized  in  the 
dispositions  of  providence;  how  temporary  pain  contributes  to  last- 
ing happiness,  and  partial  evil  is  overcome  by  universal  good ;  how 
disease  and  calamity  and  death  are  not  the  offspring  of  fatuity  or 
chance,  but  are  wrought  by  the  power  that  regulates  every  molecule 
of  matter,  every  alteration  of  the  elements,  whether  in  reproduction 
or  decay,  for  the  fulfillment  of  God's  designs,  and  the  common  good 
of  all.  Behold  how  great  are  the  works  of  God,  and  perceive  the 
ways  of  divine  wisdom.  See,  in  all  those  numberless  worlds,  how 
the  prescience  of  Omnipotence  provides  for  every  gratification  condu- 
cive to  the  felicity  of  the  inhabitants  of  this  favored  clime.  In  yon- 
der realms  they  enjoy  rest  from  their  past  toils,  and  there  is  none 
who  is  debarred  from  the  full  exercise  of  the  pleasures  of  his  con- 


547  • 

dition.  Look  out  on  yonder  fair  landscapes;  more  glorious  than 
time-bom  earth  can  show;  listen  to  those  strains  of  music,  sweeter 
and  more  seraphic  than  man's  ear  hath  ever  heard;  and  amongst  the 
green  groves  and  verdant  bowers  of  everlasting  spring,  see  those 
bands  of  ancient  friends  holding  sweet  intercourse  with  one  another. 
The  light  of  memory  the  Eternal  quenches  not  in  the  minds  of  His 
children.  Behold,  now,  how  the  commands  of  God  are  not  an  arbi- 
trary exercise  of  authority,  but  the  result  of  that  merciful  foreknowl- 
edge which  ordains  all  things  for  its  glory  and  man's  final  good;  how 
sinful  deeds  infallibly  beget  misery  and  sorrow;  how  virtue  is  the 
father  of  happiness  in  the  present  life,  as  in  that  which  is  now  past. 
See  the  regions  of  the  blessed,  in  which  all  the  innocent  gratifica- 
tions of  the  sense  are  excelled  only  by  higher  intellectual  enjoyments; 
and  look  down  upon  the  dungeons  of  the  damned,  where  '  no  order 
but  everlasting  horror  dwelleth.'  Behold  all  this,  and  see  therein 
the  power  and  majesty  and  glory  of  that  Being  whom  in  life  thou 
hast  despised;  but  after  life  cometh  death,  and  after  death,  the  judg- 
ment." 

Then  is  the  soul  made  to  stand  before  the  pillar  of  cloud,  which 
in  a  twinkling  is  rolled  back,  and  at  once  is  discovered  a  sublime 
and  elevated  throne,  round  which  a  halo  of  glory  spreads  its  gold 
and  emerald  light.  Upon  that  thf  one  sits  the  Ancient  of  Days  in  the 
might  of  his  power;  he  is  clothed  down  to  the  feet  with  a  garment 
of  light,  and  his  feet  are  as  if  bunied  in  a  furnace,  his  voice  like  the 
sound  of  a  multitude  of  waters,  and  his  countenance  like  the  sun 
shining  in  its  strength.  And  from  out  that  throne  the  vivid  light- 
nings shoot,  the  living  thunders  roar,  and  voices  unnumbered  sur- 
round it;  and  the  seven  candelabra,  the  lamps  of  the  house  of  God, 
bum  beside  it  in  unquenchable  splendor  evermore. 

In  front  of  the  throne  is  a  vast  lake  of  molten  glass,  transparent 
as  crystal,  and  below  its  surface,  writhing  in  its  smouldenng  depths, 
or  wandering  amongst  the  crags  and  caverns  of  the  gloomy  rocks, 
are  the  crowds  of  fallen  angels,  awaiting  the  issue  of  the  judgment. 
In  obedience  to  the  voice  upon  the  throne,  the  arch-fiend  rises  from 
the  molten  sea,  and  envelope^  in  smoke  and  lurid  lightning,  he 
stands  eager,  restless,  ready  to  spring  with  tiger-like  ferocity  upon 
his  victim.  In  his  lineaments  appears  a  dusky  grandeur,  and  his 
face  and  mobile  features  are  ever  changing  with  the  varied  and  con- 


548 

tending  emotions  of  hatred,  fear,  scorn,  malice,  and  defiance.  In 
language  such  as  only  the  hate  of  hell  can  inspire,  he  accuses  the 
soul,  standing  there,  lonely  and  friendless,  of  crimes  long  forgotten, 
and  sins  unshriven  and  unrepented  of.  He  denounces  it  as  a  false 
friend,  a  faithless  husband,  the  defiler  of  innocence,  the  utterer  of 
slander,  the  enemy  of  mankind,  and  a  traitor  to  God.  Then  shall 
the  sealed  book  of  the  law  of  God  be  opened  by  the  recording  angel 
and  the  long  catalogue  of  sins  shall  be  arrayed  in  evidence  against 
the  soul;  and  as  each  dark  deed  and  every  open  or  secret  sin  of 
thought,  word,  and  act,  is  passed  over,  the  affrighted  soul  shall  sink 
deeper  in  the  molten  sea  of  glass,  till  its  choking  and  convulsive  sobs 
of  anguished  despair  shall  awaken  echoes  through  the  halls  of  the 
living  and  the  chambers  of  the  dead.  The  powers  and  principalities 
of  the  kingdom  of  night  shall  exult  with  demon  glee;  a  commotion 
of  joy  shall  run  through  those  realms  of  fire;  those  fiendish  eyes  shall 
be  lit  with  baleful  flashes  of  light;  and  those  serried  hosts  of  the 
Satanic  empire  shall  make  a  final  assault  upon  the  citadel  of  God  to 
seize  the  soul  and  bear  it  away  in  triumph  to  perdition.  The  angelic 
faces  and  the  immortal  countenances  of  the  Saints  shall  be  over- 
shadowed with  sorrow  and  darkened  with  grief;  but  the  Omnipotent 
Judge  upon  the  tlirone  will  sit  serene,  passionless,  and  immovable. 

Oh !  shall  we  not  ask  ourselves  what  fate  shall  overtake  our  poor 
souls  in  that  hour  of  terror  and  dismay  ?  Shall  it  be  our  dismal 
doom  to  be  borne  off  by  the  legionaries  of  hell  to  the  land  of  ever- 
lasting misery,  or  shall  we  be  exalted  with  the  elect  in  the  kingdoms 
of  glory  ?  On  which  side  shall  we  stand  ?  On  the  side  of  Jesus 
Christ,  or  on  the  side  of  Lucifer  ?  What  we  are  now,  we  shall  be 
then.  As  the  tree  falls,  so  shall  it  lie.  If  now  we  are  arrayed  under 
the  sinister  ensign  of  Satan,  to  Satan  shall  we  then  belong.  But  if 
now  we  are  true  soldiers  of  the  Cross  of  Christ,  if  now  we  fight 
under  the  blood-stained  banner  of  Him  who  gave  up  His  life  to 
conquer  death  and  hell,  then  shall  we  rise,  victorious  and  triumph- 
ant, to  share  with  Him  the  glories  of  His  conquest. 

And  when  the  awful  accusations  of  the  enemies  of  our  salvation 
shall  be  poured  out  against  us,  the  voice  of  the  Angel  of  Mercy  shall 
be  commanded  to  speak  in  our  regard,  if  aught  can  be  alleged 
against  the  judgment  of  reprobation.  And  the  angel  of  sweet  mercy 
falling  down  before  the  throne,  shall  with  pleading  accents  say,  "  O 
Lord  God,  inscrutable  and  omniscient.  Thou  knowest  all  that  may 


549 

be  said,  but  for  the  reproof  and  instruction  of  Thy  creatures,  Thou 
veilest  Thy  eternal  glory  to  sit  in  judgment  on  this  poor  child  of 
clay.  Much  that  has  been  accused  against  him  is,  alas!  too  true; 
nay,  perhaps  not  one  tittle  of  the  charges  can  fall  to  the  ground. 
But,  O  God,  Thou  knowest  the  strength  of  temptation;  the  wealniess 
of  the  spirit,  and  the  willingness  of  the  flesh;  and  Thou  hast  wit- 
nessed the  long  and  unavailing  struggles,  the  pangs  of  remorse,  the 
tears  of  contrition,  the  yearnings  after  virtue,  the  unbreathed  aspira- 
tions, the  untold  sighs,  the  earnest  prayers  of  this  benighted,  erring 
soul.  Yet,  if  even  these  avail  not  to  arrest  the  awful  judgment,  be- 
hold he  died  hoping  in  Thy  unbounded  mercy;  confiding  with  an 
unfaltering  trust  in  the  merits  of  Thy  precious  blood,  which  can 
wash  away  his  every  sin,  and  though  they  be  as  scarlet,  make  them 
white  as  snow,  and  though  as  red  as  crimson,  make  them  pure  as  wool." 

His  plea  for  mercy  thus  ended,  the  recording  angel  shall  extend 
his  hand  and  lift  the  soul  out  of  that  glassy  sea,  and  lead  it  to  the 
foot  of  the  great  throne.  And  the  Ancient  of  Days  shall  rise,  and  his 
right  hand  upon  the  sealed  book  of  the  Law  and  the  Gospel,  his 
voice  like  the  sound  of  many  waters  shall  be  heard  unto  the  utter- 
most parts  of  his  celestial  empire  :  "  Father,  deliver  this  soul  from 
the  dai'kness  of  the  pit  and  the  devouring  jaws  of  hell;  my  blood 
hath  paid  the  price  of  ransom." 

Then  shall  a  blaze  of  glory  shine  out  upon  the  scene;  the  halls  of 
heaven  shall  ring;  the  demon  fiends,  with  yells  of  horror  and 
chagi-in,  shall  descend  through  the  lake  of  liquid  fire,  and  the 
thunder  of  their  despairing  groans  shall  reverberate  through  the 
caverns  of  hell.  But  the  murmur  of  joy  and  triumph  shall  go  forth 
from  the  angelic  host;  solemnly,  sweetly,  musically,  it  shall  swell, — 
the  eternal  diapason  of  praise  and  benediction  to  God  and  to  the 
Lamb  forever  and  forever. 

And  the  poor  penitent  soul,  its  tears  of  gratitude  falling  fast,  shall 
look  with  speechless  joy  upon  the  lineaments  of  her  Deliverer,  who 
was  Himself  a  ''  Man  of  sorrows  and  acquainted  with  grief,"  now  re- 
deemed from  the  dishonor  of  the  grave,  and  now  beaming  with 
glory.  And  from  His  own  hand  it  shall  receive  the  crown  of  ever- 
lasting amaranth,  and  the  music  of  many  voices  shall  resound  upon 
its  ear,  sweetly,  lovingly  bidding  it  an  eternal  welcome  to  that  happy 
land,  where  is  no  more  sin  and  no  more  death,  neither  sorrow  nor 
crying  any  more  forever. 


III. 

AN  EXCURSION  TO  THE  WEST. 

DELIVEEED   AT  EOSEVILLE  EINK,   NEWAEK,   N.   J. 

Some  time  ago,  impressed  by  the  consciousness  of  failing  health, 
and  guided  by  the  counsel  of  Esculapian  oracles,  I,  in  secret  ses- 
sion with  myself,  unanimously  voted  to  try  travel  as  a  means  of 
vitalizing  energies  which,  like  the  candle  flickering  in  the  socket, 
seemed  on  the  point  of  extinction.  The  medical  man's  dictum  har- 
monized with  my  own  judgment  and  chimed  with  my  desires,  and 
I  hastily  concluded  to  launch  out  for  a  constitutional  airing  into 
some  terra  incognita,  some  land  in  the  hazy  far-away.  I  was  told  to 
go  by  easy  stages,  and  my  first  impulse  was  to  walk,  but  then  I  re- 
membered the  arduous  task  of  Susannah,  whose  renown  and  hero- 
ism were  heralded  to  posterity  in  that  pathetic  ditty  which  we  used 
to  sing  in  childhood: 

'*  "When  she  walks  she  lifts  her  foot, 
And  then — she  puts  it  down  again." 

Be  this  as  it  may,  one  thing  was  just  as  clear  to  me  as  cod-liver 
oil  (of  which  I  had  taken  haK  a  hogshead) — go  I  must  for  my  con- 
stitutional, or  I  should  say  my  "  By-legal "  airing,  for,  in  the  lan- 
guage of  some  undiscovered  wit,  my  constitution  was  all  gone,  and 
I  was  living  on  the  by-laws. 

It  being  securely  settled  that,  like  a  well-regulated  family  on  the 
first  of  May,  I  had  to  move  somewhere;  I  grabbed  my  gripsack,  and 
forthwith  my  friends  filled  it  with  an  unstinted  stock  of  the  best- 
assorted — advice,  and  many  other  mementoes  worth  about  ten  cents 
per  gross.  Reader,  did  you  ever  travel  ?  Then  you  know  the  value 
of  advice. 


551 

Now,  I  aver  that  advice  is  a  prime  commodity  to  have;  for  as 
one  of  the  most  sublime  satisfactions  that  a  duped  and  soul-stung 
sinner  can  encompass  on  this  side  of  the  moon,  is  to  sting  some 
other  milksop,  more  unsophisticated  than  himself,  so  you  can  evoke 
a  world  of  amusement  from  the  process  of  seeking  out  some  unsus- 
pecting dolt,  and  pulverizing  him  with  the  sledge-hammer  slugs  of 
your  advice.  I  was  surfeited,  soaked,  saturated  with  advice.  I  was 
advised  to  the  verge  of  imbecility;  advised  to  go  to  Halifax,  Hong 
Kong,  and  other  summer  resorts  "  too  numerous  to  mention,"  and 
were  I  to  act  out  all  the  advice,  to  go  anywhere,  would  be  a  harder 
task, than  to  make  bricks  without  straw,  or  jump  a  hole  in  two 
jumps.  Therefore,  pitching  counsel,  like  physic,  to  the  dogs,  in  a  fit 
of  frenzy,  I  tossed  the  advice  I  had  to  soak  in  a  mackerel  baiTel, 
•  and,  boarding  the  Pullman  gravel  train,  I  proudly,  heroically,  grandly, 
set  sail  for  the  wild  and  wooded  West,  "  Nor  cast  one  longing,  lin- 
gering look  behind." 

When  the  novelist  begins  the  second  chapter,  infallible  instinct 
tells  him  these  touching,  tearful  lines: — "Let  us  suppose  twenty 
yeai's  to  have  elapsed  since  the  events  recorded  were  enacted."  In- 
spired by  this  ecstatic  examjDle,  we  shall  suppose  1,000  miles  to  have 
elapsed  upon  the  wings  of  time,  since  we  so  sadly  shook  hands  with 
that  noble  king  of  nature,  the  tuneful  mosquito  that  loungeth  around 
New  Jersey,  and  now  we  find  ourselves,  if  we  are  not  wholly  lost,  in 
the  cosmopolitan  city  of  Chicago. 

Scholars  have  grown  gray  in  striving  to  amve  at  a  knowledge  of 
the  origin  of  this  name.  Some  claim  that  it  is  an  Indian  name.  I 
am  sure  they  are  hugging  a  delusion,  for  a  certain  playwright  vouch- 
safed to  me  the  only  satisfactory^  solution.  He  told  me  that  in  the 
early  days  a  company  of  ballet-dancers  swooped  down  upon  the 
tow;n,  being  carried  thither  by  a  lake  schooner.  One  of  the  hardy 
pioneers,  who  was  then  being  educated  at  Cowboy  University,  stand- 
ing upon  the  shores  of  the  lake,  espied  the  schooner,  and  seeing  the 
vast  array  of  womanhood  upon  the  vessel,  exclaimed:  "Darn  my 
buttons;  why,  here's  a  whole  '  She-cargo.' "  I  think  this  precludes 
all  further  discussion  on  the  subject. 

Now,  my  friends,  before  I  touch  upon  any  Western  topic,  I  must 
exhort  you  to  enlarge  your  ideas;  let  your  imagination  swell,  and 
your  mind  expand,  because  everything  relating  to  the  West  is  great. 


552 

glorious,  and  gigantic.  A  certain  preacher  once  desired  to  convey 
to  his  hearers  a  conception  of  the  stupendous.  And  so,  from  the 
bonded  warehouse  of  his  imagination,  he  loaded  ten  trucks  with 
this  continental  comparison:  "Suppose,  my  friends,  that  all  the 
rocks  and  stones  in  this  wide  world  were  all  welded  into  one  great, 
mighty  stone.  Suppose  that  all  the  seas  and  rivers  on  the  earth 
poured  their  waters  into  one  to  form  one  great  almighty  sea.  Sup- 
pose that  all  the  men  that  ever  lived  were  amalgamated  into  one 
great,  almighty  man.  And  now,  my  friends,  suppose  that  great 
almighty  man  were  to  pick  up  that  great  almighty  stone  and  cast  it 
into  that  great  almighty  sea,  great  gosh  !  what  an  almighty  splash  it 
would  make !  "  Permit  me,  then,  to  magnify  your  mental  measure- 
ments of  the  wondrous  West,  by  asking  you  to  conceive  about  half 
of  the  monstrous  mud-baU  that  we  inhabit,  as  flattened  out  into  an 
unperipherous  prairie  pancake,  and  toasted  on  the  great  gridiron  of 
occidental  creation. 

Chicago,  the  worst  burnt  spot  upon  this  colossal  pancake,  is  the 
first  morsel  that  melts  in  the  tourist's  mouth. 

To  my,  perhaps,  distorted  vision,  Chicago  is  like  the  big  boy  who 
had  outgrown  his  trousers,  and,  for  the  sake  of  compensation,  had 
donned  his  daddy's  great-coat.  Hence  the  "  City  of  the  Lake  "  pre- 
sents a  curious  combination  of  meanness  and  magnificence,  of 
finished  elegance  and  elegant  incompleteness,  The  majestic  mantle 
of  New  York,  which  she  fain  would  wear  upon  her  not  unshapely 
shoulders,  fits  her  with  unbecoming  amplitude.  Her  palaces  are 
princely  in  their  beauty  and  proportions;  her  shanties  are  sublime 
in  their  unsightliness.  Her  private  dwellings  are  in  great  part 
travesties  on  human  habitations;  her  public  buildings  are  certainly 
superb.  The  Post-office,  Board  of  Trade,  hotels,  and  depots  are 
monsters  of  brick  and  marble,  and  they  are  masterpieces  of  grace 
and  massiveness  in  point  of  architecture. 

It  would  appear  that  the  average  family  has  a  horror  of  wash-day 
at  home,  so  numerous  are  the  laundries;  and  the  myriads  of  eating- 
houses  gently  convey  the  hint  that  the  only  cooks  employed  at  home 
are  persistent  purveyors  of  the  toothsome,  savory,  and  historic  hash. 
The  women,  so  Dame  Rumor  vouches,  are  veritable  Patagonians; 
and  like  true  specimens  of  the  genus  plantigrade,  they  cover  with 
one  foot  more  inches  of  the  earth  than  any  other  living  thing  that 


553 

walks.  The  boulevards  are  built  immensely  wide  for  their  per- 
ambulations. The  men  have,  by  some  fatuity,  one  idea  imbedded  in 
their  craniotomy,  and  that  idea  is  that  the  world  is  stupendous,  but 
alas !  the  world,  to  them,  is  circumscribed  by  the  suburbs  of  Chicago. 
I  saw  two  objects  in  Chicago,  which  at  any  time  I  would  jog  a  thou- 
sand miles  to  witness,  and  these  were  the  panorama  of  the  battle  of 
Gettysburg  and  that  of  the  battle  of  Shiloh.  If  that  most  excellent 
artist,  J.  L  Sullivan,  Esq.,  ever  gazed  upon  these  graphic  illustra- 
tions of  the  hideousness  and  horrors  of  war,  it  fails  me  completely 
to  conceive  how  the  redoubtable  champion  of  the  clenched  digits 
can  still  glory  in  a  thirst  for  human  gore. 

Whilst  viewing  the  panorama  of  Shiloh  I  heard  General  Prentiss 
refute  an  oft-told  tale  of  calumny  affecting  General  Grant.  It  has 
been  long  alleged  that  General  Grant  was,  upon  the  occasion  of  that 
memorable  conflict,  seen  to  betray  an  exuberance  of  spirits  scarcely 
compatible  from  the  standpoint  of  a  prohibition  philosopher,  with 
the  gravity  with  which  a  gi'eat  general  should  comport  himself  in 
such  an  awful  scene  of  cai'nage.  It  has  been  asserted,  furthermore, 
that  the  general  was  not  always  on  the  field  or  in  positions  where  his 
presence  was  required  for  the  inspiration  and  direction  of  his 
soldiers.  To  both  these  allegations  General  Prentiss,  himself  an 
actor  on  the  scene,  presents  a  flat,  emphatic,  and  indignant  denial. 
Such  testimony  I  deem  an  ample  vindication  of  the  memory  of  a 
man  and  soldier,  who  was  the  second  savior  of  his  country,  and 
whose  valor  the  American  people  will  always  admire  and  bless. 

The  Catholic  Church  in  Chicago  has  grown  with  astonishing 
rapidity,  and  bids  fair  to  rival  in  wealth,  numbers,  and  social  in- 
fluence, the  far  older  community  in  the  great  metropolis  of  New 
York.  Her  clergy  are  active  and  alert,  and  by  their  indefatigable 
labors  are  doing  signal  service  to  the  cause  of  religion.  They  are 
brainy  men;  full  of  zeal  and  energy;  educated  and  refined;  devoted 
and  self-sacrificing,  and,  with  a  single  eye  to  the  Master's  service, 
their  magnificent  enterprise  and  splendid  esprit  de  corps  will  infal- 
libly secure  for  the  Church  immense  acquisitions  and  unparalleled 
progress.  The  Kev.  P.  A.  L.  Egan  and  the  Rev.  T.  F.  Galligan  are 
among  the  most  energetic  pastors  of  the  city,  and  when  they  meet 
in  social  converse,  at  the  latter's  frugal  board,  the  picture  is  one  in 
which  genius  sits  smiling  on  geniality.  I  am  more  indebted  to  them 
than  this  page  can  tell. 


554 

The  Catholic  population  of  Chicago  is  now  about  550,000.  The 
parochial  schools  educate  over  50,000  children,  and  in  addition  there 
are  four  colleges  and  academies,  and  select  schools  in  great  num- 
ber. The  future  of  the  faith  is  secure  in  Chicago.  Archbishop 
Feehan  and  the  accomplished  and  distinguished  bishop  of  Peoria 
exercise  a  commanding  influence  in  Illinois,  and  their  united  labors 
have  contributed  more  than  any  other  cause,  perhaps,  to  the  consolida- 
tion and  strengthening  of  Catholicity  in  that  section  of  the  country. 

A.S  a  parting  salutation  to  Chicago,  candor  constrains  me  to  de- 
clare, that,  although  its  climate  is  "beastly,"  yet,  the  great  city  by 
the  lake  is  a  charming,  a  killing  place — for  hogs.  The  great  Fair 
will,  no  doubt,  render  the  insolence  of  the  Chicagoan  insufferable. 
The  buildings  must  be  seen;  they  cannot  be  described.  Like  Chi- 
cago herself,  they  ai*e  the  biggest  things  on  earth. 

We  now  turn  to  the  next  chapter  of  this  nomadic  novel. 

It  is  now  to  be  supposed  that  five  hundred  miles  have  ambled  off 
to  the  confines  of  the  rearward  since  the  events  before  recorded  be- 
came fit  matter  to  be  handed  down  to  history.  The  intervening 
space  I  span  in  silence,  because  there  are  but  two  objects  to  be  seen 
therein,  worthy  enough  to  claim  a  place  in  our  veracious  chronicles. 
They  are  Prohibition  and  the  Mississippi.  I  couple  them  in  the 
same  breath  on  the  principle  of  associating  opposites;  and  they  stand 
to  each  other  in  the  relation  of  contrariety,  for,  while  Prohibition 
won't  "  hold  water,"  the  Mississippi  will.  I  think  that  just  about 
the  same  amount  of  whiskey  enters  the  mouth  of  Prohibition,  as 
there  is  of  water  emptying  out  of  the  mouth  of  the  Mississippi. 

Rapidly  traversing  the  State  of  Iowa,  we  soon  come  to  the  cozy 
little  city  that  nestles  in  the  Bluffs,  and  overlooks  the  turbid  waters 
of  the  vast  Missouri. 

Omaha  is  the  wonder  of  the  trans-Missouri  empire.  It  is  the 
most  extensive  manufacturing  town  along  the  line  of  the  Missouri, 
Kansas  City  excepted,  and  not  fewer  than  eight  railroads  have  there 
a  ccjnvergence.  The  value  of  the  manufactures  last  year  was  some- 
thing enormous,  and  the  output  of  one  single  establishment,  the  smelt- 
ing works  of  Mr.  Nast  (in  which  al5o  Mr.  Balbach,  of  Newark,  New 
Jersey,  has  a  large  interest),  was  little  short  of  30,000,000  of  dollars 
in  value.  In  1865,  Omaha  had  not  one  single  manufacturing  estab- 
lishment; not  a  paved  street,  nor  a  mile  of  road  for  urban  transit. 


555 

Up  to  that  time  tlie  post-office  was  a  two-legged  institution,  wlio  car- 
ried the  mail  in  his  hat  and  passed  it  around  to  anxious  individuals. 
The  present  post-office,  which  cost  $350,000,  is  inadequate  to  the 
wants  of  the  city,  and  a  new  and  larger  edifice  is  (or  will  soon  be) 
under  constiTiction  to  meet  the  demands  of  a  population  of  1 60,000. 
On  all  sides,  lifting  aloft  then-  grimy  smokestacks,  are  to  be  seen  naU 
factories,  oil  mills,  safe  works,  breweries,  distilleries,  foundries,  and 
the  largest  smelting  and  refining  works  in  the  United  States. 

Omaha  is  the  headquarters  of  the  Union  Pacific  Railroad,  and 
their  towering  building  on  Ninth  Street  contains  a  small  army  of 
officials  and  clerks  to  transact  their  gigantic  business.  It  is  besides 
the  headquarters  of  the  Army  of  the  Platte,  from  which  annually  are 
disbursed,  according  to  the  pay-roll,  above  $25u,000.  Just  outside 
the  city  is  Fort  Omaha,  where  a  regiment  of  soldiers  is  garrisoned 
in  all  "  the  glorious  cii'cumstance  and  pomp  of  '  peace,'  "  at  the  ex- 
pense of  Uncle  Samuel.  Within  the  palings  of  the  enclosure,  upon 
a  wide  lawn  of  velvet  green,  the  stalwart,  well-fed  soldiers  go 
through  their  drill  exercises,  amid  the  blare  of  bugles  and  the  sound 
of  cymbals;  and  thither  large  concourses  of  peoj^le  repair  to  see  the 
soldiers  execute  their  military  evolutions,  and  listen  to  the  soul-in- 
spiring strains  of  one  of  the  most  magnificent  bands  that  ever  de- 
lighted human  ear.  As  I  scanned  the  appearance  of  those  defenders 
of  our  nation's  honor  against  the  marauding  proclivities  of  our 
copper-colored  and  unwashed  fellow-citizens,  the  doomed  and  luck- 
less Redskins,  and  saw  them  all  so  red,  rubicund,  and  rosy,  hale 
and  hearty,  plump  and  corpulent,  I  could  not  but  conclude  that  a 
soldier's  bread  and  bacon  are  far  less  better  baked  in  the  fiery  fur- 
nace of  war  than  in  the  frying-pan  of  peace.  And  whilst  intellect- 
ually chewing  this  cud  of  thought,  a  story  swept  across  my  memory 
which  tells  a  tearful  tale  of  the  sad  extremity  to  which  the  gallant 
followers  of  the  illustrious  Lee  were  reduced  in  the  late  unpleasant- 
ness between  the  North  and  South.  Riding  out  of  camp  one  day, 
Lee  observed  one  of  his  famished  men  engaged  in  the  colic-breed- 
.ing  occupation  of  eating  green  persimmons.  "  Hold  on  there,  my 
man,"  said  Lee,  **  don't  j'ou  know  that  green  persimmons  are  not  fit 
for  food  ?  "  "  Pm  not  eating  them  for  food,"  responded  the  hungry 
soldier.  "  Pray,  what  then  are  you  eating  them  for  ?  "  "  I'm  eating 
them,"  was  the  reply,  "to  di-aw  my  stomach  up  to  fit  my  rations." 


556 

Catholicity  flourishes  in  Omaha  like  the  green  bay-tree,  and  edu- 
cational institutions  under  the  conduct  of  Catholics  are  as  excellent 
as  they  are  numerous.  There  is  a  noble  college  founded  and  en- 
dowed by  the  late  Edward  Creighton,  an  Irishman  and  a  Catholic, 
who  amassed  a  colossal  fortune  in  the  West  by  his  enterprise  and 
industry.  He  donated  for  the  purpose  the  magnificent  sum  of 
$300,000,  and  the  college  doors  are  thrown  open,  free  of  admission 
charges,  to  all  applicants,  without  distinction  of  race,  creed,  or  color. 
Would  that  there  were  more  Catholics  in  the  country  of  this  man's 
sterling  stamp  and  golden  generosity.  His  brother,  John  Creighton, 
has  taken  up  the  work  where  Edward  laid  it  down,  and  his  benefac- 
tions to  religion  have  been  of  princely  munificence.  But  recently 
he  has  constructed  a  hospital,  which  cost  $100,000,  out  of  his  own 
purse;  and,  all  together,  the  donations  given  by  this  family  to  chari- 
table and  religious  uses  run  into  the  millions.  Other  notable  and 
generous  Catholics  are  John  Eush,  John  Code,  ex-Congressman 
McShane,  Patrick  Ford,  Thomas  Swift,  Franklin  Murphy,  and  the 
Cuddihee  brothers,  who  conduct  the  largest  beef-packing  establish- 
ment west  of  the  Missouri  Biver. 

The  records  of  the  Catholic  Historical  Society  of  Philadelphia  for 
1888-91,  contain  some  interesting  data  referring  to  the  early  history 
of  Catholicity  in  Omaha.  Mr.  T.  J.  Fitzmorris  (whose  friendship 
we  are  happy  to  claim),  the  writer,  informs  us  that  the  first  Mass 
was  celebrated  by  the  Rev.  W.  Edmonds,  of  the  Dubuque  diocese, 
in  the  court-room  of  the  old  State -House,  in  the  summer  of  1855. 
Father  Edmonds  was  the  pioneer  priest  in  the  Nebraskan  Territory. 
Gov.  Cuming  assigned  lots  for  the  building  of  a  church,  but  owing 
to  the  recall  of  the  priest  and  other  causes  the  building  was  deferred 
until  the  spring  of  1856,  and  the  edifice  being  completed  in  August 
of  the  same  year,  it  was  dedicated  to  divine  service  by  Rev.  Father 
Scanlan,  of  St.  Joseph,  Missouri.  When  the  Vicariate  of  Kansas  and 
Nebraska  was  divided  in  1859,  the  Rev.  Jas.  O'Grorman,  of  the 
Trappist  Monastery  of  Dubuque,  was  appointed  Vicar- Apostolic,  and 
having  been  consecrated  in  St.  Louis,  he  decided  at  the  urgency  of 
the  citizens  to  fix  his  episcopal  see  in  the  town  of  Omaha. 

Bishop  O'Gorman  was  succeeded  by  that  amiable  and  scholarly 
prelate,  Rt.  Rev.  James  O'Connor,  who  arrived  in  Omaha  in  Septem- 
ber, 1876.     At  that  date  the  population  of  the  city  was  but  27,000, 


557 

and  at  the  time  of  his  demise  it  had  gi'own  to  140,000.  When  the 
Bishop  assumed  charge  of  his  Vicariate  it  extended  as  far  west  as 
Montana,  north  as  far  as  the  Canadian  Hne,  and  south  to  the  borders 
of  Kansas.  This  territory  has  since  been  divided  into  six  dioceses. 
The  CathoHc  population  in  Omaha  had  increased  from  a  mere  con- 
tingent to  16,000  before  Bishop  O'Connor's  untimely  demise;  the 
value  of  church  property  to  more  than  $300,000;  and,  whereas  he 
found  but  two  churches  and  one  school  upon  his  entrance  into  the 
Vicariate,  he  left  at  his  death  eleven  churches,  many  schools  and 
academies,  and  a  Catholic  college  within  the  limits  of  the  city.  As 
an  instance  of  his  sagacity  in  temporal  affairs,  it  is  said  that  land 
purchased  by  him  for  $120  per  acre  is  to-day  worth  $10,000  by  the 
acre. 

A  chaste  and  feeling  tribute  to  the  memory  of  the  Bishop  is  con- 
tained in  the  pages  of  the  Records  above  aUuded  to,  written  by  my  old 
friend.  Rev.  P.  F.  McCarthy,  the  present  rector  of  St.  Philomena's 
Cathedi-al  in  Omaha.  To  this  reverend  gentleman  I  am  indebted 
for  the  above  facts  and  several  valuable  hints  regarding  persons  and 
affairs  in  Nebraska. 

In  the  last  year  Omaha  has  been  distracted  by  reHgious  dissen- 
sions, often  verging  to  violent  manifestation,  between  Protestants 
and  Catholics.  The  llame  of  discord  has  been  fanned  by  a  secret 
organization,  known  as  the  A.  P.  A.,  whose  virulence  and  bitterness 
have  never  been  exceeded  in  the  wildest  days  of  Orangeism.  We 
hope  cooler  counsel  wiU  prevail,  and  all  this  friction,  so  injurious  to 
the  temporal  prosperity  of  the  city,  speedily  disappear.  The  tem- 
perate and  conciliating,  and  no  less  convincing,  speech  of  the  present 
Bishop,  Rt.  Rev.  R.  Scannell,  has  done  much  to  allay  in-itation,  dis- 
sipate prejudice,  and  restore  the  reign  of  good  feeling.  May  it 
endure. 

In  former  days,  as  one  travelled  over  the  undulating  prairie  west 
of  the  Missouri,  no  uncommon  occun-ence  was  the  feai'f ul  prairie  fire. 
The  tall,  luxuriant  grass,  which  waved  idly  before  the  wind  during 
the  daytime,  was  aU  ablaze  at  night,  and  as  the  fire-demon  spread  his 
lurid  light  a  most  terrific  tableau  was  presented  to  the  gaze.  The 
scene  was  awe-inspiring  beyond  aU  description.  It  is  as  if  the  fur- 
naces of  heaven  were  opened,  and  the  whole  circle  of  the  horizon 
blazes  like  ten   thousand   cities    in   conflagration.     Lucifer  seems 


558 

loosened  from  the  igneous  deep.  As  the  wild  wind  forges  ahead  the 
furious  flames  in  surging  billows  of  fire,  the  fantastic  fire-fiend  roars 
and  shouts,  and  sweeps  the  wide-extended  plains  with  the  burning 
besom  of  destruction.  High,  and  higher  still,  roll  the  seething 
clouds  of  smoke;  upward  dart  the  forked  tongues  of  living  flame, 
and  far  off  on  the  bosom  of  the  distant  clouds  is  reflected  the  ther- 
mal glow  of  the  firelight.  It  is  the  Sirocco  of  the  plains.  Spark, 
flash,  scintillation,  blaze,  every  form  of  combustion,  is  produced  by 
the  wildfire. 

There  is  no  sight  of  such  majestic  brilliance,  and  such  startling  and 
portentous  demonstration,  as  the  night-glows  and  demoniac  glare  of 
a  fleet  and  frisky  prairie  tire.  Dismay  and  apprehension  mark  the 
settlers'  faces  at  the  approach  of  the  winged  and  destructive  element. 
At  the  first  token  of  invasion  the  people  bustle  about  to  prepare  for 
defense,  either  by  building  a  counter-fire  to  rob  the  voracious  fiend 
of  fuel,  or  by  ploughing  up  the  ground  around  the  farmer's  home. 
With  the  advent  of  civilization  these  fires  have  passed  away,  for 
fields  of  wheat  and  corn  are  planted  where  once  the  rank  vegetation 
sprouted  from  the  soil.     Man  is  ever  the  master  of  the  elements. 

The  plains  west  of  the  Missouri  have  been  the  stamping-ground  of 
many  strange  adventurers,  marching  towards  the  coast  in  quest  of 
fortune.  The  well-known  expression,  "  Pike's  Peak  or  bust,"  is  said 
to  have  originated  in  Nebraska.  Two  foolhardy  persons,  at  the  time 
of  the  great  excitement  in  '49,  set  out  for  the  Eldorado  of  their  hopes, 
alone  and  unattended,  having  painted  on  their  wagon  the  above 
motto.  When  they  reached  the  camping-ground  of  the  bloodthirsty 
Sioux,  they  paid  the  penalty  of  their  folly  with  their  lives,  and  were — 
"  busted."  Making  west  of  Omaha,  one  enters  the  Platte  Valley,  the 
overland  route  for  travellers  journeying  on  the  nation's  highway  to- 
wards the  setting  sun.  The  Platte  Valley,  which  extends  almost 
through  the  centre  of  the  State,  has  been  in  frontier  days  the  scene 
of  many-  dire  and  deadly  conflicts  with  the  savages.  It  will  be  never 
known  how  many  wayfarers  met  their  doom  on  this  dread  itinerary. 
Many  and  many  a  victim  went  down  before  the  tomahawk  of  the 
relentless  savage,  and  many  a  traveller's  bones  were  left  bleaching  in 
the  sun,  till  some  friendly  hand,  in  decency  for  the  dead,  deposited 
them  under  the  scanty  covering  of  some  hastily  constructed  mound. 
But  on  this  vast  prairie,  to-day,  not  an  Indian  appears,  and  where 


559  , 

herds  of  buffalo  roamed  in  days  gone  by,  and  shook  the  earth  with 
ponderous  tread,  is  heard  the  sound  of  the  saw,  the  hammer,  and  the 
church  bell,  the  snort  of  the  engine,  and  the  roar  of  the  tearing, 
thundering  train. 

The  large  caravanseries  which  used  to  move  from  Indiana,  Illinois, 
and  the  western  reserve  of  Ohio,  towards  the  Pacific  Slope,  and  the 
Mormons  on  their  way  to  the  Mecca  of  their  hopes,  all  passed  along 
this  route.  The  "  bullwhacker,"  as  he  was  called,  was  an  institu- 
tion of  the  early  days  in  this  region.  The  big,  burly  bullwhacker, 
with  his  prairie  schooner  and  his  raw-boned  beasts  of  burden;  his 
fierce  beard  and  unkempt  hair;  his  long  whip  and  cruel  goad  for 
prodding  the  poor  oxen, — all  this  has  passed  away  and  the  glory 
thereof  departed.  Of  the  bullwhacker,  it  was  said  that  his  oath  and 
his  whip  were  the  longest  ever  known  to  mortal  man.  The  handle 
of  the  whip  was  about  three  feet  in  length,  but  the  lash,  of  braided 
rawhide,  was  seldom  less  than  twenty.  This  lash  was  an  inch  in  di- 
ameter near  the  handle,  and  thence  it  tapered  to  a  point,  terminating 
in  a  ribbon-shaped  thong,  humorously  called  a  "  j)ersuader,"  under 
whose  gentle  influence  the  most  refractory  ox  winced,  like  a  baby  be- 
neath the  stinging  birch. 

The  bullwhacker  is  admittedly  the  champion  swearer  of  America. 
He  can  curse  the  mate  of  a  Mississippi  River  steamboat  deaf,  dumb, 
and  blind,  in  less  time  than  it  takes  to  wink,  and  his  solemn  assever- 
ation, strengthened  by  a  whole  cyclone  of  oaths,  is  good  to  the  effect 
that  he  can  drink  more  whiskey. 

Gen.  Sherman  tells  this  story  of  the  bullwhacker  :  A  film  in  St. 
Loufe  desired  to  discourage  the  continual  blasphemy  of  the  bull- 
whackers  in  their  employ,  and  issued  orders  to  their  train  men  to 
discharge  any  man  who  should  curse  the  cattle.  Besides,  wagon- 
masters  were  selected  more  for  their  piety  than  for  any  extensive 
knowledge  of  their  duties.  The  first  outfit,  under  the  new  manage- 
ment, had  not  proceeded  far  before  it  was  fixed  fast  in  the  mud.  A 
messenger  was  dispatched  to  St.  Louis  to  give  the  information  that 
the  cattle  would  not  puU  a  pound  unless  they  were  cur'sed  as  usual. 
Permission  to  do  so  was  asked  and  granted,  and  the  caravan  pro- 
ceeded on  its  way. 

The  agricultural  advantages  of  the  Platte  Valley  are  on  all  sides 
visible;  and  a  very  thrifty  class  of  farmers  occupy  the  land.     This 


560 

region  was  almost  treeless  a  few  years  ago,  and  now  many  farm- 
houses are  surrounded  by  large  groves  of  cottonwoods,  which  are  in- 
digenous to  the  soil.  The  rolling  lands  in  the  vicinity  of  the  valley 
fairly  groan  with  fertility  in  small  grain,  while  the  bottom  lands, 
nearer  to  the  water,  are  better  adapted  to  the  cultivation  of  corn, 
which  matures  later  in  the  season.  In  the  spring  and  summer  one 
of  the  most  enchanting  sights  that  greets  the  traveller's  eye,  and 
fairly  captivates  the  Eastern  farmer,  is  the  Valley  of  the  Platte.  No 
stumps  or  stones  are  found  to  impede  the  progress  of  the  plough. 
Nay;  you  may  march  for  weary  miles,  and  with  the  strictest  scrutiny 
it  is  impossible  for  you  to  pick  up  a  pebble  as  big  as  a  Boston  bean; 
and  the  reason  is,  that  the  fine  black  surface  soil,  so  rich  and  loamy, 
is  undoubtedly  the  accumulations  of  ages  of  vegetable  decay.  Of 
this  land  it  is  literally  and  exactly  true,  that  you  have  only  "  to 
tickle  it  with  a  hoe  and  it  will  laugh  with  a  harvest ";  and  therefore, 
fertilizing  is  here  utterly  unknown. 

I  promised  the  farmers  of  the  Platte  that  I  would  say  a  good 
word  for  them  in  the  East;  for  being  anxious  for  more  company, 
and  desirous,  like  big-hearted  men,  to  share  their  prosperity  with 
others,  they 'felt  sore  and  keenly  sensitive  about  the  discouragement 
lately  given  to  immigration  to  Nebraska  from  high  authority  upon  the 
subject.  Many  of  them  went  thither  a  few  years  ago  with  hardly 
any  more  capital  than  brawn  and  brain  and  a  little  dole  of  dollars; 
but  they  rolled  up  their  sleeves  above  the  elbows,  broke  the  virgin 
soil,  built  their  little  sod  shanty,  set  down  groves  of  young  trees, 
and  then  bade  prosperous  breezes  blow  and  kindly  suns  to  smile,  and 
to-day  every  man  who  had  the  grit  and  tenacity  to  "  stick  "  is,  if  not 
in  the  way  of  wealth,  at  least  in  the  position  of  undisputed  inde- 
pendence. 

I  make  here  a  few  digressions,  which,  however,  cannot  be  justly 
deemed  wholly  irrelevant  to  the  matter  in  hand. 

My  first  collateral  observation  has  reference  to  a  very  practical 
question,  which,  I  make  no  doubt,  many  have  a  strong  inclination  to 
hear  answered,  viz. :  "  What  advice  are  you  prepared  to  give  to 
those  who  are  disposed  to  assume  the  risk  of  bettering  their  for- 
tunes by  migrating  to  the  West  ?  " 

I  respond  unhesitatingly  to  those  who  would  propound  this  query, 
that,  if  their  prospects  here  are  poor,  they  could  hardly  do  anything 


561 

3nore  conformable  to  wit  and  wisdom  than  to  settle  upon  a  good 
farm  in  the  West,  provided,  however,  that  they  possess  the  proper 
qualifications  for  succeeding  in  such  an  enterprise.  And  what  are 
they,  you  ask?  Well,  they  are  as  follows:  1st,  some  slight  knowl- 
edge of  the  subject;  2d,  resolution  and  energy,  and  tenacity  to  hold 
on;  3d,  a  moderate  amount  of  capital  wherewith  to  begin.  Again, 
it  may  be  asked,  how  much  capital  is  needed  for  the  start  ?  The 
answer  to  this  is  conditional.  It  depends  upon  the  locality,  the  land 
itself,  and  the  mode  of  occupation.  Some  lands  are  still  to  be  had 
upon  Government  titles.  They  may  be  obtained  by  homesteading, 
timber-claiming,  by  pre-emption,  or  by  purchase  from  some  vacat- 
ing settler.  The  most  desirable  lands  are,  however,  already  pre- 
empted, or  taken  upon  some  other  claim.  Despite  the  immense  in- 
flux of  settlers,  there  yet  remains  considerable  land,  sufficiently  en- 
ticing to  be  homesteaded.  It  may  be  that  it  will  require  irrigation 
to  be  productive.  Good  farms,  already  highly  cultivated,  are  ob- 
tainable at  from  $8  to  $25  per  acre,  and  that,  too,  not  fifty  miles 
west  of  the  Missouri  River. 

In  view  of  these  facts,  then,  I  think  it  is  deeply  to  be  deplored 
that  many  of  our  young  men  have  not  long  since  been  influenced  by 
the  sound  dictum  of  Horace  Greeley:  "Young  man,  go  West!" 
There  they  would  have  acquired  health,  wealth,  and  happiness.  They 
would  inhale  the  air  of  free  men.  They  would  taste  of  the  horn  of 
plenty.  .  They  would  learn  to  love  labor  as  the  sweetest  joy,  and 
they  would  rejoice  in  that  manly  spirit  of  independence,  which  fills 
the  soul  of  every  child  of  nature,  when  he  is  conscious  that  he  has 
raised  himself,  by  his  own  toil  and  talents,  to  the  proud  position  of 
being  "  monarch  of  all  he  surveys,"  whilst  "  his  right  there  is  none  to 
dispute."  How  far  better  such  an  existence  than  the  soft  and  en- 
ervating life  of  the  puny  scribe,  who  plies  his  plodding  pen  the 
whole  day  long  for  a  pittance  that  is  hardly  equal  to  the  great 
emergency  of  paying  board  and  purchasing  tight  trousers  How  far 
better  an  existence  in  the  open  air  with  the  fresh,  exhilarating  breeze 
fanning  health  upon  the  cheek,  than  the  dismal,  dark,  and  dreary 
life  of  him  who,  in  the  grime  and  soot  and  smoke  and  gas  and  steam 
of  the  factory  and  the  foundry,  slaves  and  drudges  the  time  away,  till 
his  vitahty  is  prematurely  sapped,  and  he  lies  cast,  stranded — a  shat- 
tered wreck — upon  the  shores  of  life  when  he  ought  but  begin  the 
36 


562 

voyage.  I  trust  that  the  gentler  sex  -will  excuse  my  temerity  if  I  ven- 
ture to  suggest  to  them  that  there  are  some  most  successful  lady  farm- 
ers in  the  West.  And  I  will  go  further  and  say  (though  disclaiming  the 
least  pretence  to  critical  capacity  in  these  matters),  that  I  think  that 
they  have  all  the  refinement  of  manners,  grace  of  deportment,  ease, 
elegance,  and  good-breeding,  of  the  most  aristocratic  and  blue-nosed 
Boston  belle.  I  actually  saw  and  shook  hands  with  a  buxom,  stal- 
wai-t,  rosy,  fresh,  and  picturesque  young  damsel  who  harrowed  with 
her  own  hands  160  acres  of  her  father's  land.  She  was  as  pretty  as 
a  picture,  and  as  realistic  as  a  rose,  and  she  did  not  seem  as  if,  like 
some  of  our  Eastern  girls,  she  was  fed  on  baked  ^ peanuts  and  a 
grasshopper  on  toast,  once  in  every  week. 

The  next  point  I  would  notice  is,  that  a  large  portion  of  the  "West 
is,  or  was,  almost  wholly  destitute  of  arboreal  vegetation.  It  is  to  be 
here  observd  that  there  is  a  large  portion  of  the  earth's  surface 
marked  by  the  absence  of  trees,  and  that  these  sections  have  gener- 
ally the  same  conformation.  To  prove  this  I  have  only  to  mention 
the  steppes  of  Asia,  the  pampas  and  the  llanos  of  South  America, 
and  the  prairies  and  flat  lands  of  the  West.  Now,  all  these  terms 
have  an  identical  signification,  and  denote  that  nearly  all  compara- 
tively level  regions  of  the  earth's  great  land-masses  are  distinguished 
by  the  peculiarities  of  vegetable  growth,  and  the  study  of  its  char- 
acteristics is  a  better  index  of  the  under  surface,  and  the  climatol- 
ogy of  any  given  locality  than  the  science  of  geology  can  possibly 
be.  Now  the  essential  feature  of  these  level  tracts  is  the  absence 
of  trees.  Thus  nearly  90,000,000  square  miles  of  Asia  are  entirely 
foreign  to  arboreal  foliage.  Most  of  this  region  is  of  a  somewhat 
high  altitude.  And,  as  in  the  case  of  the  Asiatic  high  plateau,  so  we 
in  North  America  have  an  elevated  region,  intersected  by  mountain 
ranges,  and  situated  towards  the  western  side  of  the  continent.  In 
nearing  this  mountainous  division  of  the  continent,  we  traverse  an 
immense  surface  as  level,  apparently,  as  a  successful  politician's 
head,  but  gradually,  imperceptibly,  increasing  in  height  till  it 
touches  the  base  of  the  Rocky  Mountains;  there  a  mile  high.  Now, 
this  sloping  belt  has  a  width  of  more  than  five  hundred  miles,  and 
its  length  is  incommensurable,  for  it  extends  north  from  Mexico  to 
the  Arctic  Ocean.  Now,  while  this  whole  broad  belt  is  by  no  means 
devoid  of  the  lower  forms  of  vegetation,  the  absence  of  trees  is 


563 

nearly  everywhere  observable.  With  the  exception  of  those  cotton- 
woods  that  border  upon  the  banks  of  streams  and  rivers,  there  is 
but  very  scant  verdure,  and  that,  principally,  comprises  bunch-grass, 
sage-brush,  buffalo-grass,  and  cactus  plants.  What  are  the  causes 
for  the  curious  coincidence  between  the  flatness  of  the  earth  and  the 
absence  of  trees  ?  Many  who  have  devoted  study  to  the  subject  are 
led  to  the  conclusion  that  the  lack  of  foliage  in  these  places  is  due 
to  several  causes,  which,  in  some  localities,  are  concurrent,  and  in 
others  are  separate.  These  are  the  character  of  the  soil,  the  altitude, 
the  temperature,  the  moisture,  and  the  general  characteristics  of 
climate.  West  of  Chicago,  to  the  Mississippi,  as  far  as  the  Missouri 
and  for  some  miles  beyond,  the  grassy  vegetation  has  an  almost 
tropical  density  and  rankness;  but,  except  in  spots,  the  surface  is 
comparatively  treeless.  The  reason  for  this,  it  is  alleged,  since  moist- 
ure is  sufficiently  abundant,  is  found  in  the  nature  of  the  soil,  which 
being  the  ooze  or  residuum  of  the  lakes  which  once  covered  this 
region  with  their  waters,  is  almost  impaJpably  fine,  and  therefore 
not  favorable  to  arboreal  growth. 

When  we  proceed  yet  farther  to  the  west  the  soil  is  of  a  coarser 
character,  and  then  the  rich  and  luxurious  grasses  disappear,  or 
yield  place  to  the  cactus  and  the  scrubby  sage-brash,  but  the  trees 
are  still  conspicuously  absent,  or  the  number  found  are  like  the 
angel's  visits,  few  and  far  between,  and  those  few  are  of  dwai'fed 
and  stunted  dimensions.  The  cause  of  this,  it  is  believed,  is  due 
to  altitude,  to  the  temperature,  but,  pre-eminently,  to  the  marked 
deficiency  of  moisture.  Many  scientists  who  are  familiar  with  the 
circumstances  attending  the  development  of  the  trans-Missouri 
plains  and  the  high  plateau  adjoining  the  base  of  the  Rockies,  assert 
that  this  vast  system  is  rapidly  undergoing  most  noticeable  cHmatic 
changes.  One  thing  is  certain,  that  whereas  a  few  years  ago  the 
rainfall  was  hardly  sufficient  to  moisten  a  rose-leaf,  it  is  now 
nearly  heavy  enough  to  dispense  with  irrigation.  And  the  trees  are 
beginning  to  flourish.  And  this  they  say  is  the  cause  of  the  in- 
creased rainfall.  Others  declare  that  the  more  copious  rains  are  the 
cause  of  the  greater  growth  of  trees.  But,  I  suppose  that  it  is  a 
poor  rule  that  will  not  work  in  both  directions.  As  the  man  re- 
marked, who  was  told  that  the  first  step  towards  the  acquisition  of 
wealth  was  the  possession  of  a  good  wife,  and  who  answered  that 


564 

the  first  step  towards  the  possession  of  the  wife  was  the  acquisition 
of  wealth.  Be  all  this  as  it  may,  one  thing  seems  quite  patent,  viz., 
that  Providence  is  adapting  the  conditions  of  the  climate  to  meet 
the  requirements  of  the  onward  march  of  civilization  and  develop- 
ment of  man. 

In  Nebraska  the  Legislature  has  set  apart  one  day  in  the  early 
spring,  called  Arbor  day,  upon  which  the  inhabitants  engage  in  the 
hearty,  wholesome  exercise  of  tree-planting;  and  the  man  who 
plants  the  most  and  best  is  unequivocally  regarded  as  the  largest 
benefactor  of  his  age  and  race. 

About  190  miles  west  of  Omaha  is  Kearney,  called  after  the  dash- 
ing General  of  that  name.  This  place  and  Kearney  Junction,  a  few 
miles  west,  were  at  one  time  great  shipping  points  for  Texan  cattle. 
The  Texan  herders,  or  cowboys,  as  they  are  commonly,  if  less 
'euphemistically  called,  were  wont  to  visit  here  in  large  numbers  to 
indulge  the  pleasant  pastime  of  "painting  the  town  red."  The 
herders  were,  as  a  class,  rough  diamonds,  the  purpose  of  whose  ex- 
istence upon  this  planet  would  puzzle  a  philosojjher  of  the  Concord 
school  to  point  out.  They  revelled  in  long,  unkempt  hair,  ferocious 
beards,  broad-brimmed  hats,  and  beautifully  fitting  cowhide  boots. 
Every  man  of  them  who  had  any  self-respect  and  philanthropic 
feeling  for  his  species,  carried  a  small  arsenal  about  his  belt,  and 
blazoned  upon  his  banner  of  peace  and  good-will  to  men  the  tender 
sentiment,  "  Beer  or  blood."  They  are  accomplished  horsemen, 
riding  usually  in  the  saddle  sixteen  out  of  twenty-four  hours.  They 
have,  despite  their  paltry  peccadilloes,  one  great  and  lofty  ambition, 
to  wit,  to  become  "  a  devil  of  a  fellow,"  and  impartial  history  attests 
how  nobly  they  have  filled  the  bill.  Living  violent  lives,  they  died, 
many  of  them,  violent  deaths,  with  their  martial  boots  upon  them, 
•and  went  down  to  the  vile  dust  "  unwept,  unhonored,"  etc.,  except 
for  the  tears  that  were  shed  by  the  heartless  settlers  because  they 
did  not  sooner  shuffle  off.  It  is  but  just  to  say  that  the  character- 
istic cowboy,  as  a  peculiar  institution,  is  rapidly  running  to  seed. 
The  pernicious  influences  of  civilization  make  the  noble  creature 
succumb  who  was  absolutely  whiskey  proof;  and  the  ruthless  laws 
of  the  land  have  laid  their  iron  grasp  upon  his  Colt's  revolvers,  and 
now  he  must  perambulate  the  bleak  prairie  "  a  poor  unprotected 
male,"  at  the  mercy  of  every  savage,  Eastern  dude,  or  London  cock- 


565 

ney,  that,  like  a  vampire,  may  pounce  upon  him  and  seize  him  for  a 
prey. 

A  few  hundred  miles  west  of  the  Missouri  there  is  a  decided 
change  in  the  character  of  the  soil  and  vegetation,  and  from  the 
dark,  rich  loam  seen  in  Illinois,  Iowa,  and  Eastern  Nebraska,  the 
surface  soil  seems  pregnant  with  alkaline  ingredients.  The  countiy 
is  covered  up  to  the  base  of  the  Rockies  with  a  short  and  shrivelled- 
looking  grass  which  sprouts  up  in  tufts  and  bunches,  and  gives  to 
the  land  an  aspect  of  steriUty  and  desolation.  Yet,  they  say  it  is 
the  richest  grass  that  ever  grew,  and  that  cattle  of  all  descriptions 
will  forsake  all  sorts  of  fodder  to  browse  upon  the  wholesome  and 
nutritious  buffalo-grass. 

It  is  a  singular  circumstance,  and  one  which  to  my  mind,  at  least, 
plainly  points  to  the  finger  of  God's  providence,  that,  as  the  buffalo, 
whose  natural  food  this  gi'ass  was,  disappears  from  the  plains  (there 
now  remain  but  a  few  in  the  National  Park),  so  does  the  grass  vanish 
with  him,  and  give  place  to  other  forms  of  vegetable  growth. 

A  very  curious  and  interesting  feature  of  the  plains  of  Western 
Nebraska,  and  of  parts  of  Colorado  and  Wyoming  Tenitory,  is  the 
vast  number  of  populous  little  cities,  inhabited  by  those  cunning 
creatures,  the  prairie-dogs.  This  quaint  little  quadruped  is  gen- 
erally as  corpulent  as  an  alderman,  and  as  spry  as  the  famous 
Kansas  City  bed-bug  that  reads  the  hotel  register  to  discover  the 
number  of  the  boarder's  room.  They  burrow  in  the  ground  for 
habitations,  and  the  excavated  earth  forms  a  mound  or  hillock, 
whereon  the  puny  puppy  perches,  with  fore-paws  uplifted  like  a 
kangaroo,  and  whence  he  emits  a  snappish  little  yelp  that  sounds 
somewhat  similar  to  the  bark  of  the  pestiferous  poodle  which  the 
Fifth  Avenue  belle  so  proudly  patronizes,  and  which  the  street-arab 
fondles  with  a  brick. 

In  the  same  subterraneous  hotel,  the  prairie-dog  has,  as  fellow- 
lodgers,  the  burrowing  owl  and  the  loathsome  rattlesnake.  I  do  not 
absolutely  vouch  for  the  veracity  of  this  assertion,  for  I  saw  neither 
of  these  genial  gentlemen  consorting  with  the  dogs,  but  I  have  the 
story  upon  the  most  respectable  authority.  AVhat  congruity,  or 
harmony,  or  fellowship  forms  the  connecting  link  in  this  happy 
family  I  cannot  pretend  to  say ;  and  many  think  that  the  deluded 
dog  is  nourishing  vipers  in  his  bosom  who  accept  his  hospitality 
only  to  devour  his  four-footed  children. 


566 

Some  reference  to  the  Indian,  I  suppose,  is  expected. 

The  Eedman's  race  is  run.  I  am  not  among  those  who  think  that 
he  is  not  susceptible  of  civilized  influence,  but  he  is  now  so  degraded 
and  besotted  that  his  cure  is  desperately  hopeless.  Yes;  the  "soul- 
bursting  orator  "  is  soon  to  sleep  in  sempiternal  silence.  "  Lo !  the 
poor  Indian,"  says  the  poet,  and  low,  indeed,  he  is.  "  He  reads  his 
doom  in  the  setting  sun."  A  cruel  fate  he  knows  follows  him,  and 
will  do  so  to  the  end.  The  white  settlers  have  but  little  sympathy 
for  this  child  of  misfortune,  and  with  them  the  only  good  Indian  is 
the  dead  Indian.  It  is  surpassingly  sad  to  witness  a  whole  race  of 
God's  people  undergoing  ruthless  extermination.  What  wonder  if 
at  times  the  Kedman  makes  a  break  for  liberty. 

The  recent  rising,  with  its  bloody  issue  at  Wounded  Knee,  is  but 
one  small  item  in  this  sanguinary  drama.  The  Indians  were  expect- 
ing their  deliverer.  Much  speculation  has  been  indulged  as  to  the 
origin  of  the  Messiah  craze,  but  it  was,  in  my  opinion,  beside  the 
mark.  It  is  not  improbable  that  it  was  the  result  of  a  lingering 
tradition  received  years  ago  from  the  Mormons,  who,  to  proJ)itiate  the 
Indians,  represented  themselves  as  their  deliverers,  and  told  them 
that  the  day  of  emancipation  would  be  in  the  future,  when  the  su- 
premacy of  Mormonism  was  assured,  and  all  the  world  united  under 
the  banners  of  the  Messiah,  who,  as  he  had  come  once,  so  would 
come  again  to  visit  the  Western  Hemisphere. 

However  this  may  be,  the  late  outbreak  had  many  provocations. 
An  ungenerous  soil  had  not  responded  to  the  efforts  of  labor,  and 
the  severity  of  the  season  brought  untold  suffering.  Sickness  was 
prevalent  and  the  mortality  was  depressingly  large,  and  to  their  sad 
bereavement  constant  reference  was  made  in  the  Indian  ceremony 
of  the  "  ghost  dance."  Pinched  by  hunger  and  saddened  by  calamity 
it  was  no  wonder  that  their  minds  reverted  to  the  ancient  hope  of 
deliverance,  which  the  more  restless  spirits  among  them  fanned  into 
a  flame,  which  culminated,  not  in  the  coming  of  the  Messiah,  but  in 
the  calamity  at  Wounded  Knee. 

A  correspondent  gave  the  following  pathetic  story  at  the  time  of 
the  disaster  : 

"  A  striking  picture,  and  one  that  appeals  to  the  heart  in  favor  of 
the  Indians,  was  seen  in  the  church  at  Pine  Eidge,  which  served  as 
a  hospital  for  the  wounded  prisoners.     The  pathetic  picture  of  men, 


567 

women,  and  even  girls  and  infants,  stretched  upon  couches  of  loose 
hay  and  covered  with  quilts,  on  both  sides  of  the  narrow  aisle;  the 
sanctuary  covered  with  sheets  and  clothing,  and  the  festoons  of 
cedar  hanging  overhead,  while  the  light,  streaming  through  the 
stained-glass  windows,  shed  a  soft  glory  on  the  sad  scene, — all  this 
was  strange  and  touching.  The  sick  were  tended  with  unfaihng 
patience  by  their  own  poor  people,  and  the  strongest  young  braves 
were  seen  to  handle  a  dying  girl  with  all  the  delicacy  and  tenderness 
of  a  woman. 

"  On  the  night  of  the  battle  came  in  one  young  woman  Hterally 
torn  to  pieces  by  bullets — breast,  shoulder,  hips,  all  injured.  Though 
apparently  dying  she  was  a  marvel  of  pluck  and  endurance.  She 
still  wore  the  sacred  robe  of  the  ghost  dancers,  pitted  in  several 
places  with  leaden  missiles  and  bedaubed  with  blood.  Blood-stained 
feathers  clung  to  her  matted  hair,  and  the  ghostly  face,  with  its  clear- 
cut  Roman  outlines,  was  smeared  with  paint.  As  the  doctor  bent 
over  her  to  cut  away  the  dress,  she  said  :  *  Yes,  take  away  the  sacred 
robe;  it  is  a  wortliless  thing.  They  told  me  it  would  keep  off  the 
bullets  of  the  whites,  but  it  did  not.' 

"  The  endurance  of  the  Indian  was  wonderful.  Men  and  women, 
sorely  wounded,  were  seen  crawling  into  the  agency  after  a  journey 
of  eleven  days  in  cold  and  hunger,  exposed  to  the  rigor  of  the  biting 
elements,  and  fainting  from  loss  of  blood.  The  mind  refuses  to  con- 
ceive of  the  horrors  of  the  journey." 

Such  is  the  testimony  of  an  intelligent  eye-witness,  a  young  lady, 
whose  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  subject  entitles  her  to  speak. 

These  Indian  troubles  are  a  disgrace  to  the  nation,  and  reflect  se- 
verely on  the  management  of  those  who  have  control  of  the  Redman. 
This  Government  has  a  tremendous  account  to  render  to  posterity 
for  the  bad  faith,  dishonesty,  and  untruthfulness  which  it  has  uni- 
formly displayed  towards  the  unhappy  aborigines.  An  eminent 
jurist  declared,  on  the  peril  of  his  reputation,  that  not  a  single  ces- 
sion of  land  was  made  by  them  which  could  not  be  attacked  in  a 
court  of  equity  on  the  ground  of  fraud  and  injustice.  The  Sioux 
gave  up  the  section  of  their  reservation  with  extreme  reluctance,  and 
only  after  being  coaxed,  wheedled,  and  threatened  into  making  the 
surrender,  for  it  is  a  matter  of  notorious  certainty  that  Sitting  Bull 
or  Red  Cloud  never  would  have  freely  and  voluntarily  yielded.     But 


568 

fate  is  relentless.  The  Indian  fades  before  the  white  man's  sinister 
and  baleful  gaze.  A  few  generations  hence  and  the  last  ill-fated 
and  forlorn  member  of  a  once  mighty  race  shall  wend  his  way  in 
sorrow  to  the  shores  of  the  Pacific,  and  ere  he  disappears  forever  in 
the  darkness  of  oblivion,  shall  once  more  turn  his  despairing  and 
bloodshot  eyes  over  the  hunting-grounds  of  his  forefathers. 

Journalism  in  the  West  has  attained  a  high  degree  of  perfection. 
The  newspapers  in  some  of  the  larger  cities  might  almost  vie  with 
the  great  dailies  of  New  York  and  Philadelphia.  Those  of  Omaha, 
Denver,  and  Salt  Lake  City  are  admirably  conducted,  ably  written, 
and  are  bright,  fresh,  crisp,  and  vigorous  exponents  of  the  life  and 
thought  of  the  people.  Outside  the  populous  centres,  however,  are 
found  some  characteristic  specimens  of  newspaper  handicraft.  Bill 
Nye  immortalized  the  Laramie  Boomerang,  and  in  that  city  we  spent 
many  pleasant  days  with  the  present  administrator  of  the  Cheyenne 
diocese,  Father  Cummisky.  Keport  tells  of  the  Rocky  Mountain 
Bugle  and  the  Arizona  Howler.  Whether  they  exist,  I  know  not. 
The  editor  of  the  Rocky  Mountain  Gelt  won  a  prize  of  $1,000,  offered 
by  a  syndicate  of  newspapers  for  the  best  appeal  in  poetry  to  de- 
linquent subscribers.     Here  it  is: 

"  Lives  of  poor  men  oft  remind  us, 
Honest  men  won't  stand  a  chance; 
The  more  we  work,  there  grows  beliind  us 
Bigger  patches  on  our  pants. 

**  On  our  pants,  once  new  and  glossy, 
Now  are  stripes  of  different  hue, 
All  because  subscribers  linger, 
And  won't  pay  us  what  is  due. 

*'  Then  let  us  all  be  up  and  doing. 
Send  your  mite,  however  small, 
Or  when  the  snow  of  Winter  strikes  us, 
We  shall  have  no  pants  at  all." 

Here  is  a  very  pathetic  piece  of  obituary   anent   the    demise  of  a 
local  celebrity  named  Billy  Muckrow: 

"  We  drop  a  tear  as  we  record  the  demise  of  poor  Billy  Muckrow. 
His  genial  presence  and  his  four-inch  smile  lent  a  new  grace  to  the 
most  exclusive  saloons  in  the  town.    Though  he  was  the  last  man  to  go 


to  bed  at  night,  he  was  always  the  first  to  go  on  a  hunt  for  horse 
thieves.  And  he  was  a  hustler  when  out  with  the  boys.  He  never 
in  his  Hfe  killed  a  man  without  a  cause;  and  he  never  refused  to 
ante  up  his  little  pile  when  he  bucked  the  tiger  and  lost.  *  He  is  gone 
where  the  woodbine  twineth  ';  where  he  tarries  till  the  last  trumpet. 
His  departure  left  a  deep  gulch  in  our  community,  and  was  a  special 
loss  to  us.  He  placed  his  name  upon  our  books  for  one  year's  sub- 
scription for  the  Howler,  and  we  offer  to  his  widow  the  only  conso- 
lation in  our  power,  and  assui-e  her  that  the  paper  shall  be  dehvered 
every  week  on  time,  with  unfailing  promptitude  and  despatch. 
Terms, — cash  in  advance." 

Justice  is  administered  in  the  West  with  even-handed  impartiality. 
Whenever  the  regular  course  of  law  seems  slack-footed,  or  when  xm- 
usual  interest  is  taken  in  the  criminal,  the  more  swift-dealing  pro- 
cess of  the  Vigilantes  is  invoked.  There  is  sometimes  a  kind  of 
grim  mockery  of  judicial  forms  in  the  methods  of  the  Vigilance 
Committee  or  the  lynchers. 

Early  in  the  fifties,  a  man  had  a  horse  and  two  donkeys  stolen, 
which  he  tracked  for  some  distance  until  he  felt  able  to  fasten  the 
guilt  upon  some  Mexican  "  greaser."  The  announcement  of  this 
news  naturallj^  enough  demanded  drinks  all  around.  "Do  you 
know,"  said  the  self-constituted  leader,  "  that  shooting  these  fellows 
on  sight  is  not  just  the  right  way  to  send  them  'cross  the  liver.  Let 
'em  have  a  fair  jury  trial,  and  then  string  'em  up  with  the  majesty  of 
law.  That's  the  cue."  This  humane  moderation  struck  a  sympa- 
thetic chord,  and  the  next  toast  was,  "  Here's  a-hoping  that  we  ketch 
that  greaser." 

A  little  later  they  fell  foul  of  a  Mexican  walking  over  the  hilL 
"  That's  the  cuss,"  said  the  advocate  of  the  law.  In  a  jiffy  the  Mex- 
ican was  lying  upon  the  broad  of  his  back,  bound  hand  and  foot. 
Happily  his  Spanish  ear  did  not  hear  the  cry  of  "  String  him  up,  hang 
the  doggoned  lubricator,  rope  the  greaser."  But  he  was  to  be  tried 
b}^  law.  A  jury  was  impanelled,  and  despite  refusals  to  sei-ve,  were 
thrust  into  a  poker  room  in  the  rear  of  a  saloon,  which  did  the  duty 
of  a  court-house.  While  the  jury  was  deliberating,  the  noise  of  the 
lynching  party  was  heard  in  a  neighboring  canon.  On  their  return, 
the  spokesman  opened  the  door  of  the  jury-room  and  asked  the 
foreman  the  verdict.     "  Not  guilty,"  was  the  answer.     "  Go  back," 


570 

yelled  the  crowd,  "you'll  have  to  do  better  than  that."  The  door 
was  again  opened  and  the  verdict  demanded.  "  Guilty,"  said  the 
foreman. 

"Correct,"  said  the  crowd,  "you  kin  now  come  out.  Verdick's 
correck.     We  hung  him  an  hour  ago." 

Next  day  the  horse  was  found  down  the  caiion,  and  the  two  don- 
keys behind  the  saloon. 

A  young  fellow  of  twenty  was  tossed  over  the  range  for  some 
petty  theft;  and  as  he  sprang  from  the  limb  with  the  noose  about 
his  neck,  he  tossed  his  hands  to  the  gang  with  sickening  levity,  and 
said,  "  Adios,  boys."  When  the  jury  viewed  his  remains  the  follow- 
ing day  the  apologetic  verdict  was,  "  Died  from  hanging  around." 

A  judge  in  Montana,  having  to  pronounce  a  capital  sentence  upon 
some  unfortunate  adjudged  guilty  of  murder,  thus  gave  vent  to  his 
sympathy  and  philosophic  sagacity:  "After  a  fair  and  impartial  trial 
by  an  enlightened  jury,  and  an  eloquent  and  able  defence  by  your 
learned  and  devoted  counsel,  the  Court  finds  it  to  be  its  painful  and 
solemn  duty  to  pronounce  upon  you  the  extreme  penalty  of  the  law. 
You  are  to  be  hanged  by  the  neck  until  dead.  Yours  indeed  seems  a 
hard  fate.  Kesting  on  the  threshold  of  existence,  in  the  bud  and 
bloom  of  youth,  the  world  and  all  its  vision  of  loveliness  closes  upon 
you  forever,  and  you  go  forth  to  die  a  bitter  death.  And  yet  I  do  not 
know  that  you  may  so  much  complain,  or  that  you  are  destitute  of 
consolation.  For  it  is  the  profound  conviction  of  most  of  the 
learned  scientists  and  philosophers  of  our  age  (and  in  their  opinion 
I  concur),  that  it  is  a  matter  of  grave  doubt  whether  life  be  worth 
living  anyhow."* 

I  was  myself  eye-witness  of  a  singular  scene.  It  was  an  indigna- 
tion meeting  held  in  Ogden,  Utah,  whose  avowed  object  was  the 
expulsion  of  the  Chinese  from  the  territory.  A  noble  judge  from 
Idaho  came  to  the  meeting  in  the  interest  of  peace  and  order,  and 
was  proceeding,  with  judicial  argument  and  vigorous  eloquence,  to 
make  a  plea  for  the  Mongolian  race,  when,  finding  that  he  was 
vehemently  hissed  and  jeered  by  the  crowd,  he  suddenly  altered 
the  tenor  of  his  discourse,  and  said:  "I  mean  we  should  not  ex- 
clude this  people  except  by  legal  process,  but — if  we  can't  do  that, 

*  My  esteemed  friend,  Rev. English,  of  Hastings,  Neb.,  is  responsible  for 

the  above. 


571 

we  must  get  them  out  anyhow.    '  Peaceably  if  we  can;  forcibly  if  we 
must.' "     I  turned  away  in  disgust. 

Leaving  Exeter,  Nebraska,  on  a  July  afternoon,  on  the  admirably 
equipped  Burlington  and  Missouri  road,  we  traversed,  for  a  hun- 
dred miles  at  least,  one  of  the  finest  farming  regions  that  ever 
human  eye  beheld. 

The  inky  blackness  of  the  night  soon  passes  into  that  cerulean 
morning  hue  which  tinges  the  sky  in  rarefied  regions  of  the  atmos- 
phere; the  sparkhng  stars  sink  out  of  sight;  the  lordly  sun  pours 
forth  his  beams  and  spangles  the  heavens  with  his  blazing  banners, 
and  the  faint  flush  of  dawn  which  broke  upon  the  caliginous  cheek 
of  night  is  succeeded  by  a  blaze  of  glory.  Suddenly  all  eyes  are 
directed  towards  a  vision  of  vastness  far  away,  and  all  exclaim  in 
awestruck  accents — The  Rocky  Mountains!  Who  that  has  once 
beheld  them  can  ever  forget  his  first  view  of  those  snow-pointed 
pinnacles  as  they  pierce  the  azure  canopy  above  the  corruscant 
clouds  ?  It  takes  some  time  to  realize  that  those  great  big  banks  of 
seeming  clouds  are  not  built  out  of  gauzy,  gossamer  air  and  sun- 
shine, but  of  solid  earth  and  rock,  piled  up  towards  the  heavens 
during  some  antediluvian  upheaval  of  this  strange  planet  of  ours. 
But  the  illusion  is  more  perfect  than  any  mirage  of  the  deep  that 
ever  mocked  the  land-sick  fancy.  It  is  a  picture  of  bewitching  per- 
plexity. Running  clear  athwart  the  sky  is  a  shimmering,  sinuous 
thread  of  light.  Its  sheen  and  gUster  waver  in  tremulous  streams, 
which  broaden  and  expand  till,  like  a  flash  of  revelation,  it  dawns 
on  the  beholder  that  he  gazes  on  the  eternally  snow-capped  sum- 
mits of  the  mountains.  And  we  saw  this  huge  handiwork  of  the 
Almighty  Architect,  and  we  feel  now  a  greater  admiration  for  His 
omnipotence,  and  a  deeper  awe  for  His  majesty  than  we  ever  felt 
before. 

"  We  climbed  the  rock-built  breasts  of  earth; 

We  saw  the  snowy  mountains  rolled, 

Like  mighty  billows;  saw  the  birth 

Of  sudden  dawn;  beheld  the  gold 

01  awful  sunsets;  saw  the  face  of  God; 

And  named  it  boundless  space."  ' 

O  Nature !  how  grand,  how  beautiful  dost  thou  appear !    Thy  shelv- 
ing declivities  and  hills;  thy  wide-spreading  fields;  thy  awful  moun- 


672 

tains  and  precipices  either  fill  the  mind  with  gratitude  or  with  awe. 
How  wildly  grand  the  scenery  of  the  West !  Here  a  rushing,  foam- 
ing cataract  pours  its  streams  along,  like  the  Shoshone  tumbling 
over  a  declivity  of  230  feet;  here  are  bastions,  canons,  and  frowning 
walls,  fretted  by  the  violence  of  the  chafing  storms  into  shapes  and 
forms  not  wrought  by  human  hands;  there  are  lofty  ledges  of  granite 
pierced  in  twain  by  the  corrosion  of  some  century-flowing  rivulet, 
whose  slow  and  silent  power  impresses  not  the  eye  of  man. 

"  Who  that  from  a  mountain  height  surveys 
The  Nile  or  Ganges  roll  his  wasteful  tide 
Through  mountains,  rocks,  and  deserts,  black  with  shade, 
And  continents  of  sand,  would  turn  his  gaze, 
And  mark  the  windings  of  a  scanty  rill 
That  murmurs  at  his  feet  ?  " 

Here  again  the  rays  of  the  sun,  as  they  descend  upon  the  summits 
of  the  mountains,  find  their  way  through  the  openings  in  the  spurs 
and  ranges,  and  are  so  unequally  distributed  as  to  produce  an  effect 
at  once  picturesque  and  magnificent.  There  rise  colossal  domes 
crowned  to  the  base  of  the  summit  with  pines  and  cedars,  their  dark 
foliage  resting  in  the  shade;  while  in  the  far  distance,  but  seeming 
near  from  its  towering  height,  a  mass  of  rock  and  snow  points  up- 
ward, on  which  the  sun  shines  in  uninterrupted  splendor,  till  its  top 
becomes  a  very  pyramid  of  frozen  light,  to  crown  the  awful  grandeur 
of  the  scene. 

Approaching  the  delightful  city  of  Denver,  the  high  plateau 
affords  a  vantage-ground  from  which  the  Colorado  range  of  the 
Rockies  is  visible  for  nearly  two  hundred  miles.  Perhaps  the  view 
is  unsurpassed  either  in  the  Eastern  or  Western  Hemisphere. 
Long's  Peak  rears  its  majestic  proportions  against  the  azure  sky  far 
to  the  north,  and  westward  Mounts  Evans  and  Rosalie  lift  their 
shaggy  locks  above  the  other  summits  of  the  range.  Gray's  Peak 
and  James'  Peak  stand  out  sublimely  among  their  gigantic  brethren 
in  the  other  direction,  and  Pike's  Peak  displays  its  snow-burdened 
crest  at  least  eighty  or  ninety  miles  to  the  south.  Volumes  would 
be  required  to  delineate,  with  any  justice,  the  beauty,  the  grandeur, 
and  the  Sublimity  of  these  Titanic  monuments  of  the  Almighty's 
workmanship.     Seeing,  and  seeing  only,  is  appreciation. 


573 

There  is  one  of  these  mountains,,  however,  which  because  of  its 
■sublime  significance  merits  a  passing  notice.  It  is  the  Mountain  of 
the  Holy  Cross,  named  doubtless  by  the  pious  pilgrims  of  the  Cross 
who  first  trod  these  unbroken  wilds.  Among  the  amphitheatre  of 
hills  around  it,  it  stands  out  grand,  frowning,  majestic,  and  its  neigh- 
boring peaks  bow  down  before  it,  as  if  acknowledging  its  suprem- 
acy. A  lofty  eminence,  which  seems  to  forsake  the  dull  and  com- 
mon atmosphere  of  earth  to  aspire  to  a  nobler  and  a  purer  sky,  it 
inspires  the  mind  with  thoughts  that  soar  above  sublunary  things. 
Beheld  in  the  splendor  of  the  noonday,  or  viewed  by  the  softer  glow 
of  sunset,  its  sublime  aspect  is  unchanged.  Its  feet  ai-e  hidden  in 
the  verdurous  hills  that  stand  like  eternal  sentinels  around  it.  Its 
craggy  head  is  covered  with  clouds  and  mists,  tinged  by  a  glare  of 
lurid  red  and  fringed  with  golden  tracery  wrought  by  the  em- 
broidering finger  of  the  sun;  its  sides,  riven  and  seamed  by  volcanic 
or  other  convulsions,  are  filled  with  the  virgin  snow,  and  its  trans- 
verse defiles  present  to  the  sun's  rays  an  unbroken  surface  of  bur- 
nished silver,  which  outlines  with  sharp  precision  the  form  of  the 
Holy  Cross.  I  will  let  an  abler  pen  describe  the  glorious  symbol, 
and  draw  out  its  pregnant  meaning: 

"  There  it  stands,  bearing  the  symbol  of  man's  redemption  in  bold 
and  heroic  characters  that  dwarf  all  human  graving,  and  placed 
upon  the  pinnacle  of  the  world  as  a  sign  of  possession  forever. 

"  The  Jesuits  went  hand  in  hand  with  Chevalier  Dubois  in  pro- 
claiming the  Gospel  of  Christianity  through  the  northern  forests. 
The  Puritan  brought  his  Testament  to  New  England;  the  Spanish 
banners  of  victory,  on  the  shores  of  the  Pacific,  were  upheld  by  the 
enthusiastic  zeal  of  the  Friars  of  San  Francisco;  and  the  ice-clad 
cliffs  of  Alaska  resounded  to  the  chanting  of  the  fathers  of  St.  Peter 
and  St.  Paul.  On  every  side,  the  virgin  continent  was  taken  in  the 
name  of  Christ,  and  with  all  the  eclat  of  religious  conquest.  But 
ages  unnumbered  before  any  of  them, — centuries  obUvious  in  the 
mystery  of  the  dim  dead  past, — the  Cross  had  been  planted  here.  As 
a  prophecy  during  unmeasured  generations,  as  a  sign  of  fulfillment 
during  nineteen  centuries,  from  always  and  to  eternity,  a  reminder 
of  our  fealty  to  Heaven,  this  divine  seal  has  been  set  upon  our 
proudest  eminence.  What  matters  it  whether  we  write  God  in  the 
Constitution,  when  here,  in  sight  of  all  men,  is  this  wondrous  testi- 


574 

mony  to  His  sovereignty  ?  Shining  grandly  out  of  the  pure  ethereal 
blue,  high  above  the  din  of  strife  and  the  turbulence  of  the  storm- 
tossed  clouds,  there  it  stands  and  says :  *  Humble  thyself,  O  man. 
Measure  thy  works  at  their  true  insignificance.  Uncover  thy  head 
and  acknowledge  thy  weakness.  Forget  not,  that,  as  high  above 
thy  gilded  spires  gleams  the  splendor  of  this  living  cross,  so  are 
My  ways  exalted  above  your  ways,  and  My  thoughts  above  your 
thoughts.' " 

Denver  is  one  of  the  prettiest  and  most  prosperous  cities  in  the 
United  States.  Beautiful  dwellings  succeed  one  another  in  endless 
variety  of  style  and  architecture,  and  with  lovely,  unfenced  lawns 
surrounding  them,  vie  with  one  another  in  grace  and  attractiveness. 
Ease,  comfort,  and  opulence  are  apparent  on  all  sides.  Denver  is 
one  of  the  most  cosmopolitan  cities  in  the  world,  and  the  spirit  of 
the  social  atmosphere  is  that  of  healthy  democracy.  There  exists 
not  that  chill,  exclusiveness,  and  ostracism  characteristic  of  many  of 
the  pretentious  Eastern  communities,  who  wrap  themselves  up  in  the 
mantle  of  their  originality,  and,  from  the  lofty  perch  of  ridiculous 
self-conceit,  look  down  upon  all  common  creatures  made  of  ordinary 
earth.  People's  noses  don't  take  an  aristocratic  turn,  soaring  sky- 
ward at  an  angle  of  45  degrees,  with  a  sort  of  holier-and-better-than- 
thou  expression,  which  those  who  do  not  belong  to  the  supermortal 
throng  are  greeted  with  in  the  environs  of  New  York,  Boston,  and 
Philadelphia. 

The  population,  too,  are  cultured  and  refined.  Intellectual  pur- 
suits engage  their  leisure,  and  the  fine  arts  find  patronage  and  in- 
tense appreciation  among  the  educated.  In  the  long  twilight  of 
the  summer  evening,  families  are  seen  on  the  verandas,  regaling 
one  another,  not  with  scandal  or  gossip,  but  with  the  latest  bit  of 
information  on  art,  science,  or  literature. 

The  climate  of  Denver  is  renowned,  and  physicians  in  all  parts  of 
the  United  States,  and  even  in  Europe,  send  debilitated  patients 
thither  for  recuperation.  I  must  confess,  that,  although  some  five 
or  six  hundred  people  enter  Denver  every  day,  either  because  they 
are  invalided,  or  because  they  think  they  are,  I,  for  my  part,  cannot 
concur  in  the  wisdom  of  the  choice  which  makes  Denver  a  home,  es- 
pecially  for  those  who  have  reached  the  more  progressive  stages  of 
consumption.     The  changes  of  temperature  are  too  abrupt  and  too 


575 

extreme.  One  may  stroll  out  from  his  hotel  at  midday,  with  the  sun 
resplendent  in  the  heavens,  and  not  a  fleck  of  cloud  in  any  quarter. 
Suddenly  the  sky  is  overcast;  the  horizon  grows  as  dark  as  the  Sty- 
gian pit;  large,  crepuscular,  nebulous  masses  come  tumbling  down 
from  the  snow-burdened  mountains  in  the  distance;  the  big  rain 
pours  down  upon  the  earth,  and  the  thermometer  sinks  with  uncom- 
fortable and  chilling  rapidity.  To  me  it  has  never  been  an  occasion 
of  surprise  to  see  an  invalid,  buoyant  with  hope  and  expectation, 
entering  Denver  and  returning  home  boxed  up  for  baggage  in  a 
shorter  space  than  that  which  intervenes  between  the  May  blossoms 
and  the  autumn  fruit. 

I  am  compelled  to  say  adieu  to  Colorado,  without  attempting  a 
description  of  her  springs  and  spas;  her  gorgeous  mountains  and 
her  smiling  plains;  the  glories  of  her  Koyal  Gorge,  and  the  gran- 
deur of  her  Garden  of  the  Gods;  her  cliff-dwellers  and  her  Indian 
relics,  and  her  myriads  of  objects  replete  with  interest  to  the  student 
of  science  and  nature,  just  to  lift  the  veil  for  a  single  moment,  that 
screens  from  vulgar  view  the  city  of  the  Latter-Day  Saints,  and 
take  a  passing  peep  into  the  mysteries  of  Mormondom. 

With  the  history  of  the  rise  and  progress  of  this  peculiar  people, 
as  a  sect,  most  Americans  are  familiar.  Although  professedly  based 
on  revelation,  and  founded  on  the  Bible,  supplemented  by  the  Book 
of  Mormon  as  a  code  of  morals,  Mormonism,  as  far  as  discoverable 
by  me,  is  a  fantastic  jumble  of  Christianity,  Judaism,  and  Masonic 
rites.  Its  inner  secrets,  or  what  Aristotle  would  call  the  esoteric  rites 
and  doctrines  of  the  sect,  have,  in  all  probabiUty,  never  been  fully  di- 
vulged to  outsiders,  and  a  great  deal  has  been  written  in  elucidation 
of  the  subject  by  quill-drivers  from  the  East,  who  no  more  pene- 
trated the  charmed  interior  circle  of  Deseret  than  they  did  the  peii- 
etralia  of  a  Turkish  harem. 

The  Mormons  hold  to  the  existence  of  God  and  the  divinity  of 
Christ,  and  they  can  produce  miracles  and  prophecies  with  astonish- 
ing facility.  At  least,  so  they  say.  According  to  their  view,  the  doc- 
trines of  Christianity  were  preached  by  Christ  in  person,  on  the 
American  continent,  to  a  race  of  people  called  the  Nephites.  In  con- 
sequence of  incessant  wars  with  their  dark-skinned  neighbors,  the 
Lamanites,  the  Nephites  were  utterly  exterminated,  and  the  revela- 
tions of  Christ,  engi-aved  on  golden  tablets,  were  interred  by  Mor- 


576 

mon,  son  of  Moroni,  and  last  of  the  Nephites,  in  a  mountain-side  in 
the  interior  of  New  York  State.  Here  they  were  found  (in  1837,  I 
believe)  by  the  scheming,  enthusiastic,  and  fantastical  Joseph  Smith. 

The  revelations,  it  is  claimed,  were  written  in  some  archaic  lan- 
guage, which  the  most  learned  professors  of  Columbia  were  incompe- 
tent to  decipher;  but  by  means  of  a  magical  stone,  called  Urim  and 
Thammim,  which  accompanied  them,  the  translation  was  effected  in 
the  presence  of  three  witnesses,  and  published  to  the  world  as  the 
Book  of  Mormon.  While  this  book  is  a  supplementary  exposition  of 
the  Sacred  Text,  it  is  held  to  be  of  equal  authority  with  it;  nay,  aside 
from  this  new-found  key,  the  Bible  is  an  insoluble  enigma.  It  is 
worthy  of  note,  that  these  "original  witnesses"  all  apostatized 
from  the  Mormon  faith,  which,  in  my  opinion,  should  be  enough  to 
shake  the  convictions  of  the  most  iron-clad  believer.  But  no  people 
in  recent  times  ever  went  through  so  much  vicissitude,  and  suffered 
so  much  of  both  moral  and  physical  persecution,  for  the  faith  that 
was  in  them,  as  the  Mormons.  Their  Hegira  from  Nauvoo,  Blinois, 
to  Council  Bluffs,  and  thence  to  Salt  Lake  Valley,  in  days  when  such 
an  expedition  was  fraught  with  peril  and  disaster,  was  an  instance 
of  incredible  fortitude  and  patient  endurance,  united  with  buoyant 
hope  and  confidence,  which  might  well  command  admiration,  even 
though  exhibited  for  the  sake  of  a  delusion. 

The  sincerity  of  the  masses  can  scarcely  be  doubted  by  any  one 
who  visits  the  temple  in  which  they  hold  public  service.  In  response 
to  interrogations  by  me,  I  was  informed  by  one  who  represented 
himself  to  me  as  a  nephew  of  Brigham  Young,  that  he  considered 
the  Mormons  as  divisible  into  two  classes,  the  knaves  and  the  dupes. 
The  leaders  ranked  with  him  as  knaves;  the  multitude  were  dupes. 

The  old  tabernacle  is  an  acoustic  phenomenon.  The  old  hear-a- 
pin-drop  experience  is  here  literally  verified.  Though  the  building 
has  a  seating  capacity  of  from  six  to  eight  thousand,  the  slightest 
whisper  is  carried  with  wonderful  distinctness  into  every  part  of  the 
immense  building  Such  was  my  personal  experience.  The  temple, 
or  tabernacle,  as  it  is  called,  in  contradistinction  to  the  new  temple 
just  finished  at  a  cost  of  many  millions,  is  built  in  the  form  of  an  ir- 
regular ellipse,  and  its  concave  roof,  resembling  the  longitudinal  sec- 
tion of  a  great  egg-shell,  is  supported  by  equidistant  pillars,  whose 
spacings  serve  for  doors  at  frequent  intervals. 


577 

•The  new  temple  is  a  marvel.  It  is  hard  to  say  to  what  style  of 
^architecture  it  belongs,  but  it  seems  to  be  a  combination  of  Grecian 
and  Judaic  models.  There  is  nothing  either  beautiful  or  imposing 
about  the  facade,  and  a  few  convoluted  figures  are  the  only  adorn- 
ment. The  walls  are  at  least  ten  feet  thick  at  the  base,  and  as  they 
rise,  with  decreasing  density,  are  broken  by  one  set  of  rectilinear  win- 
dows succeeded  by  another,  almost  oval  or  moniliform.  This 
temple,  whose  magnitude  and  material  made  almost  fabulous  ex- 
pense, was  built  from  the  tithes  of  the  poor  farmers,  whose  wagons, 
loaded  with  the  produce  of  the  soil,  are  seen  daily  standing  before 
the  tithing-office  in  Church  Square. 

Mormon  industry  is  unflagging.  They  conquered  the  wilderness 
and  converted  it  into  a  flower  garden.  He  that  '*  holds  communion 
with  Nature's  visible  forms  "  should  feast  his  eyes  on  the  entrancing 
beauties  of  Cashe  Valley  on  a  summer's  morning  late  in  August.  The 
yellow-tasselled  corn  is  undulating  in  the  valley;  the  rosy  apples, 
ripe  and  red,  hang  blushingly  upon  the  bough;  the  laughing  clusters 
of  the  purple  grapes  depend  languidly  from  the  vine;  the  golden  ap- 
ricots shimmer  radiantly  through  the  rustling  leaves,  and  patches  of 
green  millet,  interrupted  by  streaks  of  stubble,  which  glisten  like 
amber  in  the  sunlight,  make  a  picture  of  pastoral  beauty  unsurpassed 
in  Alpine  regions,  or  on  the  sunny  fields  of  France. 

I  have  seen  the  sun  go  down  in  grandeur  beneath  the  Atlantic's 
wave;  I  have  beheld  him  sink  to  rest  upon  the  open  prairie  when 
Night  unrolled  her  sable  mantle,  but  I  have  beheld  never  a  sunset 
more  glorious  than  among  the  Wasatch  mountains  which  cast  their 
long  shadows  on  the  surface  of  Salt  Lake.  At  first  one  has  no  eye 
but  for  the  general  grandeur  of  the  scene,  but  by  degrees  the  details 
press  themselves  upon  the  attention.  The  sun  casts  his  pencils  of 
light  across  the  lake  in  fan-shaped  conformation.  The  light 
tremulously  wavers  on  the  bosom  of  the  water.  The  face  of  the 
mountains  is  covered  with  a  blue  far  deeper  than  that  of  heaven, 
and  the  fantastic  distribution  of  lights  and  shades  assist  the  imagin- 
ation to  coDJure  up  all  sorts  of  supermortal  shapes  and  forms. 
By  and  by  the  jagged  outlines  are  warmed  into  a  rich  roseate  hue, 
and  glow  like  a  wall  of  living  fire.  As  the  sun's  disc  descends  be- 
hind the  towering  peaks,  the  luminary  lifts  the  threads  of  light 
from  off  the  lake  and  they  seem  to  shoot  up  in  iridescent  spray  to- 
37 


578 

wards  the  heavens  as  if  to  inflame  those  elevated  regions.  As  he 
disappears  from  sight  he  leaves  behind  a  golden  atmosphere;  the 
air  is  surcharged  with  color,  which  slowly,  imperceptibly  fades  away; 
the  violet  tint  of  the  mountains  deepens  and  darkens  slowly,  and 
softly  enfolds  a  scene  of  transcendent  and  overwhelming  magnificence. 
I  cannot  terminate  this  subject  without  the  tender  of  my  poor 
compliments  to  the  Rt.  Rev.  Laurence  Scanlan,  to  whom  I  am  under 
deep  obligations  for  many  courtesies  extended  during  my  stay  of 
two  months  in  Salt  Lake  City.  He  is  a  man  who  deprecates  all 
complimentary  speech,  but  I  trust  to  his  forbearance  so  far  as  to 
say  that  his  labors  for  the  last  twenty  years  among  the  Mormons 
have  been  signally  blessed.  He  is  beloved  by  all  classes  alike,  and 
no  individual  influence  counts  for  more  than  his  in  the  Territory  of 
Utah.  He  has  a  noble  academy,  a  college,  a  large  hospital,  and 
other  institutions  of  benevolence  and  instruction,  all  of  which  he 
erected  in  a  few  years,  and  all  of  which  he  has  conducted  with  dis- 
tinguished success.  May  he  live  long  and  prosper.  Some  day  I 
may  have  leisure  to  revisit  him  in  the  most  beautiful  city  of  the 
West. 

THE  WEST. 

* '  I  love  the  giant  cliffs  that  skirt 

The  bold  Atlantic's  side. 
His  branching  bays  and  headlands  fair, 

And  rivers  deep  and  wide. 
And  yet,  two  thousand  miles  beyond 

The  echo  of  his  wave 
Are  glowing  hearths  and  cheerful  homes. 

And  spirits  true  and  brave  ; 
Where  shines  the  sun,  o'er  Ml  and  dale 

In  richest  verdure  dressed, 
And  spreads  as  boundless  as  the  sea. 

The  bright  and  glorious  West. 

"  From  stream  and  lake  the  fleecy  cloud 

Its  grateful  dew  imparts 
To  spreading  plains  and  flowery  vales 

With  homes  for  loving  hearts  ; 
And  there  are  temples  of  the  sky 

That  mock  the  flight  of  Time  — 
Dark  forest  groves  that  lift  their  spires 

Majestic  and  sublime; 


579 

And  woodland  paths,  and  circling  greens 

By  fairy  footsteps  pressed; 
And  giant  caves,  where  love  to  dwell 

The  genii  of  the  West. 

"  There  sits  the  monarch  of  the  soil, 

A  king  upon  his  throne; 
There  sits  the  mistress  of  the  hearth, 

Her  empire  all  her  own — 
To  all  that  cluster  round  their  sway, 

A  cheering  smile  to  lend. 
With  plenty  for  their  own  broad  board. 

And  plenty  for  a  friend; 
And  gentle  words,  and  glances  kind, 

To  soothe  the  wanderer's  rest, 
To  bid  him  see,  how  frank  and  free 

The  welcome  of  the  West! 

**  Oh,  bright  and  gorgeous  are  the  walls 

That  guard  the  Eastern  shore 
With  palace  homes  and  massive  piles, 

And  halls  of  classic  lore; 
Where  wild  ambition,  taste,  and  art. 

And  wealth,  and  power,  and  gold, 
Around  the  fancies  of  our  youth 

Their  glittering  trappings  fold : 
They  bid  us  grasp  our  dreams  of  life. 

With  all  we  hoped  for  blessed; 
And  yet  the  homestead  of  the  heart 

Is  in  the  boundless  West! " 


IV. 

SKETCH  OF  REV.  J.  J.  CURRAJST. 

My  acquaintance  with  the  lamented  Father  Curran  dates  from  the 
^week  subsequent  to  my  ordination,  when  I  was  assigned  to  duty  by 
the  Rt.  Rev.  Dr.  Wigger,  in  the  Catholic  Protectory,  Arlington,  N.  J., 
of  which  Father  Curran  was  the  Director.  I  did  not  consider  that  my 
lines  were  cast  in  pleasant  places  in  the  new  field  of  labor,  for  I  was 
keenly  conscious  of  the  onerous  and  even,  to  me,  disagreeable  char- 
acter of  the  office  incumbent  on  me  by  virtue  of  my  appointment. 

Four  years  of  duty  in  the  management  of  college  boys  had 
brought  home  to  me  the  well-founded  conviction  that  the  task  of 
guiding  and  controlling  the  strays  and  waifs  of  humanity,  gathered 
from  every  quarter,  under  the  roof  of  a  reformatory,  would  prove  to 
be  at  once  most  delicate  and  most  difficult.  And  yet  I  did  not  find 
it  so. 

Father  Curran's  competency  for  the  work  of  government;  his 
deep  insight  into  the  character  of  youth;  his  genius  for  discipline  and 
order;  his  masterly  methods  of  reproof  and  correction;  his  watch- 
ful eye,  his  ready  hand,  his  tireless  voice,  and  his  enthusiastic  zeal 
and  sanguine  expectations  of  success — all  contributed  to  lighten  the 
labors  of  his  co-workers,  even  so  as  to  turn  a  task  into  a  pastime. 

With  one  secret  of  successful  government  he  was  more  familiar, 
and  upon  it  he  set  more  store  than  do  most  people  invested  with  the 
badge  of  authority.  There  is  a  maxim  that  finds  full  force  and 
recognition  in  military  administration,  and  it  ordains  that  an  offence 
shall  meet  with  punishment  more  speedy  and  condign  when  com- 
mitted under  a  subaltern  than  when  committed  under  a  superior 
officer.  This  was  Father  Curran's  creed  of  discipline.  By  its  adop- 
tion he  strengthened  the  arm  of  authority,  and  made  it  felt  even 
more  powerfully  in  his  absence  than  in  his  presence.     Nor  did  he 


581 

fail  to  trust  to  his  coadjutors  a  large  and  confidential  share  in  the 
management  of  matters,  which  might,  by  many,  be  reserved  for  per- 
sonal control.  I  know  whereof  I  speak.  There  is  no  pain  like  dis- 
trust; there  is  no  happiness  hke  confidence. 

This  broadness  of  view,  this  magnanimity  of  mind,  characterized 
aU  his  relations  with  his  subordinates.  It  springs  only  from  gener- 
ous souls  with  fuU  faith  in  humanity,  and  it  has  no  lodgment  in 
warped  and  narrow  minds,  in  distorted  and  defective  understand- 
ings. 

Father  Curran's  heart  was  as  large  and  loving  as  his  head  was; 
clear  and  capacious.  The  geniality  of  his  temper  was  a  gleam  from 
the  genius  of  his  mind.  He  was  slow  to  anger  and  swift  to  sym- 
pathize; and  the  fairest  feature  of  his  many-sided  character  was,  in 
my  opinion,  his  wide  compassion  for  the  erring,  the  strayed,  and  the 
degenerate. 

If  he  was  doctus  cum  libris — ^learned  in  the  books — he  had  even  a 
riper  knowledge  of  human  nature;  and,  like  that  Master,  whose  pro- 
fessed disciple  he  was,  he  could  regard  with  the  lenient  eyes  of  pity 
the  foibles  and  the  weaknesses  of  misguided  mortals.  And  what 
but  the  desire  to  provide  a  channel  for  the  compassion  of  his  heart, 
led  him  so  eagerly  to  take  up  the  task  to  which  his  superior  had  as- 
signed him  of  caring  and  providing  for  the  homeless  and  wayward 
children  of  the  Diocese  of  Newark  ? 

With  what  earnest  solicitude  and  anxious  care  he  devoted  himself 
to  his  work,  so  uncongenial  in  itself,  no  one  knows  better,  or  appre- 
ciated more  warmly,  than  his  ecclesiastical  superiors. 

For  myself,  I  regarded  with  utmost  wonder  the  tireless  assiduity 
with  which  he  performed  the  dreadful  drudgery  of  answering  fuUy 
and  explicitly  the  thousands  of  letters  received  in  the  year  from  the 
soUcitors  of  the  Sacred  Heart  Union,  scattered  through  the  States 
and  Canadas.  To  every  one  he  returned  an  exact,  aptly-worded, 
and  gracious  reply.  This  kind  attention,  so  affably  conveyed,  was 
the  magnet  of  attraction  that  drew  thousands  to  him  and  to  his 
work.  I  am  sure  that  the  sad  intelligence  of  his  demise  will  cause 
many  an  eye  to  glisten,  and  many  a  heart  to  grieve,  among  those 
who  had  a  share  in  his  labors  under  the  auspices  of  the  Sacred 
Heart. 

His  care  for  the  homeless  boys  was  most  tender  and  paternal;  his 


582 

love  for  them  affectionate  and  ardent.  For  them  did  he  incessantly 
plan  and  devise;  for  them  did  he  expend  the  best  thoughts  and 
energies  of  his  life.  It  was  the  aim  of  his  life  to  help  the  homeless 
boys.  To  lift  them  up  when  falling;  to  soothe-  them  when  failing; 
to  cheer  them  when  succeeding; — this  was  the  goal  of  his  ambition, 
and  it  was  the  object  which  inspired  his  waking  thoughts  by  day 
and  disturbed  his  dreams  by  night.  "  I  love  God  and  little  chil- 
dren," said  Goethe,  and  if  the  one  love  was  the  index  of  the  other, 
then,  indeed,  are  many  frailties,  if  he  had  them,  forgiven  Father 
Curran,  because  "  he  loved  much." 

In  the  paper  he  founded — The  Catholic  Times — he  took  a  pardon- 
able pride.  He  had  not,  indeed,  the  special  training  of  a  journalist, 
but  he  had  considerable  aptitude  from  nature  for  success  in  a  jour- 
nalistic enterprise.  He  was  a  terse  and  vigorous  writer,  and  he 
dipped  his  pen  in  the  well  of  English  undefiled.  But  first  and  last 
he  was  conscientiously  exact,  and  I  knew  him  to  spend  a  fuU  week  in 
studying  an  astronomical  problem,  to  the  end  that  he  might  render 
a  satisfactory  reply  to  some  correspondent  in  an  obscure  part  of 
the  country. 

From  the  start  the  paper  was  a  signal  success,  and  I  know  that  he 
was  strongly  averse  to  surrendering  its  active  control;  which,  how- 
ever, he  did  at  the  instance  of  his  Bishop,  who  desired  that  Father 
Curran  should  devote  his  undivided  attention  to  the  work  of  the 
Protectory,  and  to  the  paper  published  in  the  interest  of  the  home- 
less boys,  called  The  Sacred  Heart  Union. 

At  one  time  he  entertained  the  project  of  founding  a  Sunday- 
school  paper  for  the  Catholic  children  of  the  country.  Though  he 
knew  of  the  existence  of  some  excellent  papers  of  this  character,  he 
considered  there  was  room  for  more.  He  was  on  the  point  of  seek- 
ing the  Bishop's  sanction  for  his  undertaking  with  a  view  to  obtain- 
ing permission  for  me  to  canvass  the  country  to  enlist  the  sympathies 
of  the  priesthood  in  the  United  States,  when  I  was  transferred  to 
another  sphere  of  duty.  Why  the  scheme  was  finally  abandoned, 
I  never  fuUy  learned. 

Father  Curran  was  variously  gifted.  He  was  endowed  with  more 
talent  than  genius;  more  solidity  than  brilliancy;  more  reflection 
than  imagination.  His  mind  was  of  the  analytical  order,  and  his 
capacity  rather  critical  than  creative.    His  conversation  did  not  flow 


583 

with  the  same  freedom  as  his  pen,  but  it  was  always  impressive  and 
convincing.  He  possessed,  however,  a  large  fund  of  anecdote,  and 
mirth  was,  though  not  predominant,  a  salient  feature  of  the  man. 
His  style  was  sententious;  his  speech  simple,  frank,  and  free  from 
crafty  induction.     To  diplomacy  and  dogmatism  he  was  a  stranger. 

His  manner  was  warm,  cordial,  and  assuring,  and  was  adorned 
with  the  indescribable  charm  of  simplicity.  His  friendships  were 
stable  and  enduring,  like  the  evergreen,  which  braves  every  blast 
that  blows  and  still  preserves  a  vital  power  unconscious  of  decay. 
How  fondly  he  was  regarded  by  his  own  friends  and  college  mates, 
I  have  grateful  reason  to  recall. 

Making  a  visit  to  Chicago  some  five  years  ago,  and  bearing  letters 
of  introduction  from  Father  Curran,  I  found  myself  a  welcome  and 
honored  guest,  where  elsewise  I  had  been  an  utter  stranger.  His 
letter  was  a  passport  of  recommendation  to  the  favor  of  all  who 
knew  him. 

I  think  he  never  knew  what  envy  was.  It  has  been  said  of  poets 
and  journalists  that  the  praise  of  their  contemporaries  is  not  among 
their  virtues.  It  was  said  of  Wordsworth  that  he  had  no  words  of 
eulogy  for  any  of  the  Lake  schools  of  poets  but  himself. 

Father  Curran  was  singularly  exempt  from  that 

*'  Base  envy  that  at  another's  fortune  pines, 
And  hates  the  excellence  it  cannot  reach." 

He  had  warm  and  generous  words  of  encomium  for  all  his  fellow- 
journalists,  and  none  of  that  mean  depreciation  which  disgraces  the 
editorial  page. 

He  was  gifted  with  mechanical  ingenuity  of  no  despicable  quality, 
and  along  this  line  he  directed  a  large  share  of  his  indefatigable  in- 
dustry. Clocks,  lathes,  and  steam  engines  were  as  familiar  to  him 
as  toys  to  children.  He  had  some  knowledge  of  wood  and  scroll 
work,  and  could,  and  did,  construct  various  musical  instruments. 
He  was  an  adept  in  the  art  of  photography;  had  some  acquaintance 
with  medicine  and  chemistry,  and  a  remedy  of  his  own  devising  for 
the  cure  of  hydrophobia  was  discussed  and  conceded  to  have  some 
merits  by  the  medical  journals  of  London  and  Paris. 

He  was  a  man  of  multifarious  knowledge,  and  had  he  concentrated 
his  energies  upon  some  special  line  of  work,  I  make  no  doubt  he 


584 

would    have   achieved  the   highest  excellence,   and  won  enduring 
recognition,  if  not  renown. 

He  was,  likewise,  a  sound  and  accurate  theologian,  and,  like  the 
true  scholar,  he  was  too  naodest  to  suspect  his  cleverness.  He  was 
not  wanting  in  inflexibility  of  opinion,  for  he  had  the  courage  of  his 
convictions,  but  he  was  not  wedded  to  his  views,  and  he  entered 
upon  argument  like  a  man  seeking  information  rather  than  impart- 
ing knowledge. 

As  a  priest  he  was  faithful,  zealous,  and  unfailingly  attentive  to 
the  manifold  duties  of  his  sacred  calling.  In  the  early  years  of  his 
missionary  work  he  was  commissioned,  owing  to  the  illness  of  the 
pastor,  to  resume  the  responsible  government  of  the  parish  of  St. 
John's,  Trenton,  N.  J.  He  subsequently  exercised  his  sacred  func- 
tions in  the  parishes  of  Mt.  Hope  and  Totowa,  New  Jersey.  He 
finally,  after  his  transfer  from  the  Protectory  at  Arlington  in  conse- 
quence of  failing  health,  he  labored,  though  racked  with  pain  and 
sickness,  with  his  customary  zeal  in  the  Holy  Kosary  parish  at 
Elizabeth,  N.  J. 

There  death  overtook  him  in  the  midst  of  his  labors.  He  met  it 
with  the  equanimity  and  Christian  fortitude  of  a  true  priest  of  God. 
He  who  had  shown  others  how  to  die,  had  himself  to  die  at  last.  I 
saw  him  on  his  sick-bed  about  ten  days  before  the  melancholy  end. 
When  our  eyes  met  I  beheld  him  with  furtive  stroke  brush  away 
the  silent  tear.  The  action  told  me  all  he  apprehended.  He  knew 
death  was  at  hand.  "I  will  go  West,  like  you,  for  my  health,"  he 
said — "  that  is,  if — if  God  ever  allows  me  to  leave  here."  But  he 
knew  it  was  not  to  be,  and  he  resigned  himself  with  Christian  com- 
posure to  his  fate. 

And  now  he  is  gone — a  friend  in  all  the  term  implies,  a  man  in 
all  that  constitutes  true  manhood,  a  priest  in  all  that  was  pre-emi- 
nently priestly.  He  had  faults;  they  were  few.  He  had  virtues; 
they  were  many.  With  both  he  stands  before  his  Maker.  It  is  ours 
to  mourn,  and  it  is  ours  to  mingle  our  voice  with  thousands  of  orphan 
hands  uplifted  to  Jesus  to  save  His  servant  for  His  name's  sake. 

To  the  living  we  give  sympathy;  for  the  dead  we  prefer  our 
prayer,  and  on  the  grave  of  our  departed  friend  we  lay  in  silent 
sorrow  the  flower  of  loving  remembrance,  and  breathe  the  sigh  of 
regret. 


V. 

STORY  OF  THE  SEA.* 

Some  time  ago  I  promised  to  tell  the  homeless  boys  of  Arlington 
some  tales  about  seafaring  life,  and  I  must  make  the  promise  good. 

How  fraught  with  danger  is  the  career  of  the  sailor,  and  the  perils 
of  the  ocean;  how  vast  and  how  thrilling!  The  hardy  mariner 
leaves  his  native  shore,  and  bids  adieu  to  all  the  loved  ones  at  home, 
to  glide  on  the  surface  of  the  fathomless  sea,  and,  besides  Him  who 
guides  the  mighty  waters,  and  holds  in  the  hollow  of  His  hand  the 
rolling  waves,  who  can  tell  whether  the  coral  reefs  and  sparkling 
gems  of  the  ocean  will  not  be  his  tomb,  and  his  requiem,  the  dirge 
and  melancholy  music  of  its  roai\ 

The  life  of  the  sea-boy,  oh !  how  perilous  it  is,  and  yet  how  awful 
and  how  grand.  In  the  blowing  of  the  angry  winds,  and  in  the  dread- 
ful roaring  of  the  tempest,  he  beholds  the  wrath  of  an  offended  God; 
and  should  he  survive  the  havoc  of  the  storm,  and  see  the  brilliancy 
of  the  sky,  and  the  smooth,  glassy  surface,  tinged  by  a  thousand 
radiant  colors,  how  joyously  he  welcomes  the  glad  signs  of  the  Cre- 
ator's pleasure. 

Tell  me,  old  Ocean,  how  many  millions  of  toilers  lie  buried  for  aye 
and  for  aye  in  thy  deep,  cold,  cheerless  bosom !  But  at  the  sound- 
ing of  the  last  trump  thou  wilt  yield  up  thy  dead,  and  the  countless 
slumberers  that  rest  within  thy  caves  will  throw  off  unconsciousness 
and  awake  to  the  cheering  light  of  day.  And  yet,  old  Ocean,  thou 
hast  hushed  the  familiar  tones  of  friendship,  and  stilled  the  throb- 
bings  of  many  a  weary  heart  forevermore.  And  the  poor,  lone 
widow  can  shed  not  one  pitying  tear  on  the  solitary  spot  where  her 
loved  one  lies  in  the  sound  slumbers  of  the  sea's  great  cemeteries. 
Mother,  thou  canst  not,  at  the  sweet  and  pensive  hour  of  eve,  seat 

*  For  thel8acred  Heart  Union. 


586 

thyself  upon  the  tomb  of  thy  departed  son,  and  deck  the  turf  that 
glistens  with  the  dews  of  heaven.  Nor  canst  thou,  sister,  plant  one 
flower  on  the  watery  grave  of  thy  fond  brother.  Thou  canst  not 
bid  the  lily  blossom  thereupon,  nor  the  willow  spread  its  branching 
boughs  in  mourning  around  his  lonely  dwelling-place.  And  thou, 
devoted  child,  canst  not  weep  the  dew  of  grief  above  thy  father's 
soundless  home,  for  low  he  lies,  very  low,  in  the  deep,  deep  sea,  and 
cold  and  dreary  is  his  resting-place ! 

And  yet,  my  dear  young  boys,  what  a  strange  fascination  there  is 
about  the  sea  for  those  who  never  braved  its  dangers  and  never 
saw  its  perils. 

How  many  foolish  boys  are  ready  to  leave  the  comforts  of  the 
cosy  fireside,  to  turn  their  backs  upon  the  kind  friends  at  home, 
and  go  to  risk  the  dangers  of  the  ocean. 

In  my  last,  I  told  you  of  my  experience  in  the  "West  Indian  waters, 
and  now  I  purpose  telling  you  of  something,  at  once  laughable  and 
serious,  which  occurred  just  off  Cape  Hatteras,  a  point  on  the  Atlan- 
tic coast,  noted,  as  you  may  know,  for  the  extreme  violence  of  its 
storms. 

It  was  a  bright  day  in  October.  The  ship  rode  grandly  on  the 
swelling  waves,  and  she  seemed  like  a  veritable  cloud  of  canvas. 
Broad  out  was  spread  every  inch  of  sail  that  booms  could  bear,  from 
main-yards  up  to  royals.  Her  cock-boats  swung  at  the  davits,  near 
peaked  quarter  and  latticed  stern,  glistening  in  a  new  coat  of  white 
paint.  From  truck  to  deck  everything  was  trim  and  taut;  every- 
thing bright  and  shining  in  the  sunshine  of  a  glorious  afternoon  in 
the  mellow  month  of  October.  I  sat  on  the  capstan  forward,  bask- 
ing idly  in  the  sun,  when  looking  windward,  I  saw  an  immense 
school  of  porpoises  gliding,  leaping,  down  upon  us  and  stretching 
out  as  far  as  the  eye  could  see.  On  they  came,  disporting  in  the  water 
like  so  many  ocean  elves,  emitting  that  low  and  plaintive  sound 
characteristic  of  this  vagrant  of  the  deep.  No  sooner  had  tbey 
passed  than  the  breeze  began  to  lull.  In  an  instant  it  died  away. 
The  sails  flapped  lazily  against  the  masts,  and  finally  seemed  to 
wind  about  them,  and  like  the  ancient  mariner  of  whom  the  poet 
speaks,  we  found  ourselves  drifting: 

"  As  idly  as  a  painted  ship 
Upon  a  painted  ocean." 


587 

**  All  hands  aloft,"  cried  the  second  mate,  his  ruddy  cheeks  now 
blanched,  and  a  look  of  apprehension  on  his  sun-tanned  face.  The 
storm-king  was  abroad  in  all  the  shining  terrors  of  his  wrath.  Oh  ! 
can  I  forget  the  scene  ?  The  day  grew  suddenly  dark  and  then  grew 
bright  by  turns.  Cloud-piles  were  towering  up  Hke  pyramids  in  the 
sky,  so  electric  that  they  seemed  pulsating  with  sulphurous  light. 
A  fearful  rain-cloud  broke  above  our  heads,  and  when  it  had  blown 
by,  it  left  us  buried  for  some  minutes  in  a  mass  of  wet,  blue  vapor. 
How  the  rigging  rattled,  and  the  shrouds  whistled  in  the  wind, 
while  the  shouts  of  the  sailors  ever  and  anon  rose  above  the  roar  of 
the  tempest.  The  day  was  declining  and  the  last  of  twilight  had 
now  come.  The  sea  underneath  was  awfully  grand,  and  a  strange, 
magical  illumination  seemed  to  hght  up  different  parts  of  the  ocean, 
and  then  all  was  covered  with  a  pall  of  impenetrable  darkness.  I 
had  helped  the  sailors  to  furl  the  sails;  had  taken  in  the  slack  of 
halyards  and  tackle  till  my  hands  were  blistered  and  my  bones 
ached;  and  weary,  tired,  and  frightened,  I  retired  at  the  mate's 
order  to  my  bunk  in  a  small  store-room  of  the  forecastle.  The 
ship  plunged  and  groaned  like  a  thing  of  life,  and  the  seas  ploughed 
across  her  deck  and  swept  every  unfastened  object  into  the  seething 
waters.  I  heard  the  strong  voice  of  the  captain,  who  was  lashed  to 
the  mizzen-mast,  ordering  the  men  to  stand  by,  axe  in  hands,  ready 
to  cut  the  masts  out  of  the  storm-vexed  vessel,  to  save  her  from  cap- 
sizing. I  heard  the  blasphemous  sailors,  who  of  all  men,  alone  on 
the  deep  with  the  angels,  ought  to  be  reverent  and  prayerful,  vent 
their  awful  oaths  upon  the  ship,  the  officers,  the  storm,  and  on  one 
another.  A  feeling  of  fear,  nay,  of  terror,  seized  me,  to  which  was 
added  the  dreadful  sickness  of  the  sea,  and  how  I  longed  at  that 
moment  to  set  foot  upon  the  dry  land,  which,  I  believe,  T  would 
have  devoutly  kissed  in  gratitude.  I  do  not  know  how  others  have 
felt,  but  "  for  mine  own  poor  part,"  I  have  never  realized  with  such 
intensity  the  power  of  God  in  creation,  as  when  I  found  myself 
alone  with  Him  on  the  sea.  It  was  then  I  felt  the  merest;  it  was 
then  I  felt  most  helpless;  it  was  then  I  prayed  the  best. 

How  awful  seems  that  remark  of  the  poet  about  the  sea  : 

"  So  lonely  'twas  that  God  Himself 
Scarce  seemed  there  to  be." 


588 

And  yet  we  know  that  God  is  everywhere.  He  is  in  the  starry 
sky,  the  songful  grove,  and  He  is  in  the  vast  solitude  of  the  mighty 
deep. 

But  filled  with  awe  and  terror,  my  brain  afire  with  thoughts  of 
home  and  friends,  I  finally  sank  into  a  fitful,  broken  sleep.  The 
ship  heaved  and  swayed,  and  every  now  and  then  I  was  rudely 
awakened  by  being  tossed  against  the  partition  wall  that  divided  me 
from  the  sailors.  At  length  I  was  hurled  headlong  from  my  berth, 
and  I  plunged  head  foremost  into — not  as  I  first  believed,  when  my 
eyes,  ears,  and  mouth  were  filling  with  the  salty  water — the  great 
ocean  itself,  but  into  a  barrel  half  filled  with  brine  that  once  pre- 
served some  splendid  mackerel. 

I  need  not  say  that  I  was  half  suffocated,  nor  that  I  received  a 
shock  hardly  less  intense  than  when  I  fell  into  the  sea  some  time 
before. 

The  storm  next  day  subsided,  and  though  the  swell  continued  for 
nearly  forty-eight  hours,  we  had  fair  sailing  for  the  rest  of  the  trip, 
and  landed  at  New  York  profoundly  impressed  with  the  violence  of 
a  hurricane  off  Hatteras. 

THE  STOKM  AT  SEA. 

A   LEAF   FEOM   EXPERIENCE. 

Dark  was  the  night,  and  wild  the  tempest's  roar, 
The  Storm-King  rode  the  air,  and  from  the  shore 
The  breakers'  baleful  sound,  the  sailors  proud 
Filled  with  alarm  and  dread;  the  crimson  cloud, 
That  tipped  with  fire  at  eve  the  sail  and  shroud, 
Was  ebon  black;  and  from  the  murky  vault 
The  forked  lightnings  flashed;  the  sea  of  salt 
Phosphoric  now  sheet'd  was  with  lurid  light. 
Whose  lambent  tongues  fanned  ev'ry  foaming  height; 
Like  sparkling  sapphires  shone  wave  crests  anon, 
And  fitful  fires  ran  fur'ous,  and  were  gone. 
Dark!  darker  still  the  night,  the  storm  more  wild, 
JTor  earth  nor  heav'n  seemed  more  of  Maker  mild 
The  creatures.     T'  frenzy  lashed  the  mighty  deep, 
On  billow  billow  rolled  and  wave  o'erleaped 
O'er  wave.     Tumult'ous  heaved  the  angry  swell; 
Winds  shrieked  like  demon  hosts  outpoured  from  hell ; 
Convulsed  seemed  Nature,  and  with  gaping  womb, 
All  life  that  rode  the  sea  rav'nous  t'  entomb. 


589 


The  ship  with  anguish  groans;  and  shlv'ring  mast, 
And  trembling  timbers  'pear,  as  if  at  last, 
Wild  plunging  down  th'  abysmal,  soundless  wave. 
She'd  ages  dwell  where  Neptune  guards  the  grave; 
Else,  tempest  tossed,  by  boisterous  storm's  shock, 
Be  dashed  unpit'ing  'gainst  the  piercing  rock. 
And,  ev'ry  soul  aboard,  who  lived  and  thrived, 
Be  called  to  doom,  unhauselled  and  unshrived. 
God  of  the  storm;  of  matter  Lord,  and  mind. 
The  clouds  Thy  char'ot  are;  upon  the  wind 
Thou  walkest;  waters  sleep  Thy  hollow  hand 
Within;  the  rolling  tide  at  Thy  command 
Doth  ebb  and  flow;  the  storm  will  rage  no  more. 
And  giant  billows  break  upon  the  shore 
In  harmless  glee,  if  Thou,  great  God,  but  will, 
Who  calmed  the  waves,  to  sea  cried,  Peace!  be  still! 
Hear  suppliant  sailors,  fate  compelled  to  roam. 
Their  bark  speed  safely  towards  their  happy  home. 
Oh!  Thou  who  rulest  ev'ry  wind  and  wave, 
Stretch  forth  Thy  hand.  Omnipotent,  to  save." 

The  rosy  dawn  gilds  glorious  coming  mom. 
The  rainbow  glows  with  radiant  smiles  new-bom, 
Upon  the  sky  like  opal  gleams  the  sun; 
The  danger's  past,  pray'r's  victory  is  won! 


VL 

SKETCH  OF  EEV.  M.  J.  TALLON. 

There  is  no  event  more  common  than  that  of  death.  Every  day, 
and  every  hour  in  the  day,  some  recruit  in  the  great  army  of  life 
falls  by  our  side,  even  as  we  turn  to  gaze  upon  him.  Death  has 
other  means  of  conquest  than  the  shock  of  battle,  the  assassin's 
bludgeon,  and  the  storm  and  tempest  of  the  physical  world.  There 
are  seeds  as  well  as  instruments  of  death;  and  they  are  sown  every- 
where, on  hill  and  plain  and  valley,  and  broadcast  through  the  land. 
There  is  no  clime  so  rugged,  no  soil  so  barren,  that  even  there 
death's  fruitage  may  not  flourish.  Death  is  a  harvester  that  never 
fails,  and  he  gleans  his  grain,  not  only  in  life's  springtime,  but  also 
in  manhood's  summer  glory,  and  in  the  frosty  winter  of  old  age. 

It  is  a  trite  but  truthful  axiom,  that  common  things  are  held  in 
cheap  estimation,  and  therefore  make  but  slight  impression.  The 
sun  shines  by  day,  the  stars  sparkle  on  the  field  of  night,  and  the 
earth  pours  forth  her  fruits  in  proper  season;  but  these  majestic  op- 
erations of  divine  power  excite  but  little  astonishment  or  admiration, 
because  they  are  so  commonplace.  Thus  it  is  with  death.  We  sel- 
dom realize  the  propinquity  of  the  King  of  Terrors,  for  the  reason, 
that  in  the  midst  of  life  we  are  in  death.  Death  cometh  to  all,  and 
we  behold  his  presence  daily.  We  see  the  venerable  locks  of  the 
aged,  the  blushing  honors  of  manhood,  the  ruddy  freshness  of 
youth,  whose  eye  is  flashing  and  salient  with  life,  and  the  tender  bud 
of  infancy — all  fail  and  fall  before  the  scythe  of  the  pitiless  destroyer, 
and  we,  perchance,  are  unmoved  and  unconcerned.  The  rich,  the 
great,  the  powerful;  the  poor,  the  weak,  the  outcast,  and  the  de- 
spised, the  honored  and  the  unknown, — all  alike  are  gathered  over  to 
the  silent  majority,  all  sleep  in  God's  acre,  all  pass  into  the  undis- 
covered land,  and 


591 

"Sink like  waves  upon  that  shore 
Where  storms  shall  never  rouse  them  more." 

We  take  no  note  of  the  dread  harvest  till  the  sickle's  edge  cuts  some 
vine  or  tendril  that  grew  close  to  our  own  heart.  But  when  the 
awful  Archer,  who  loves  the  shining  mark,  strikes  his  arrow  into  the 
circle  of  the  loved  and  dear;  when  the  shadow  of  his  pale  wings 
broods  over  our  own  household;  when  the  friend  whose  presence 
was  a  shield  to  our  life  and  a  hope  to  our  heart,  glides  down  the 
river  of  Rest,  'tis  then  we  feel  death  coldly  creep  about  our  being, 
and  fasten  his  clammy  coils  around  our  existence,  with  a  tenseness 
and  an  energy  which  we  never  felt  before. 

To  a  wide  circle  of  friends,  by  whom  he  was  affectionately  cher- 
ished and  esteemed,  the  death  of  the  subject  of  this  sketch  came 
with  crushing  effect  and  keen  affliction.     To  them  a  Hght  was  gone 

out: 

"  A  light  that  ne'er  shall  shine  again 
On  life's  dull  stream." 

To  them  an  urn  was  broken  and  the  flame  put  out  forevermore; 
and  memory's  troubled  waters  to  this  hour  are  stirred  with  sympathy 
and  overflown  with  unfeigned  sorrow.  But  while  they  lament  a  loss 
that  cannot  be  repaired,  they  bow  in  humble  acquiescence  to  the  will 
of  the  Sovereign  Disposer  of  events,  the  Ai'biter  of  life  and  death. 
Go,  spirit,  to  thy  home  !  The  eye  of  faith  beholds  thee  gently  lean- 
ing on  the  breast  of  thy  Redeemer,  and  our  sighs  ai'e  changed  to 
raptures,  our  tears  to  praise. 

The  Rev.  M.  J.  Tallon  was  bom  in  Beau  Pare,  County  Meath,  Ire- 
land, on  September  12,  1846.  His  preparatory  studies  for  the  priest- 
hood were  made  at  St.  Finnian's  College,  Navan.  After  he  had  com- 
pleted there,  with  high  honors,  the  prescribed  course  of  study,  he 
entered  the  famous  Seminary  of  Maynooth,  where  he  pursued  his 
studies  with  unremitting  diligence  and  enthusiastic  ardor  for  several 
years.  His  health  finally  yielded  to  the  strain,  and  he  was  reluc- 
tantly obliged  to  abandon  his  studies  and  return  to  his  home.  Al- 
though thus  incapacitated  for  many  years  from  pursuing  the  cher- 
ished purpose  of  his  life,  he  incessantly  prayed  that  God  would  one 
day  give  him  the  strength  to  resume  his  studies  and  be  ordained  an 
anointed  of  the  Lord. 


592 

He  came  to  the  shores  of  America  in  1870,  and  finding  with  the 
.  lapse  of  time  and  the  change  of  climate,  an  improvement  in  the  con- 
dition of  his  health,  he  engaged  in  the  honorable  employment  of 
teaching  school  in  Hoboken,  and  as  soon  as  the  assurance  of  his 
physical  condition  justified  his  life-long  expectation,  he  entered  Seton 
Hall  Seminary,  where,  after  a  distinguished  course  of  study,  he  was 
ordained  to  the  Holy  Priesthood,  on  May  22,  1880. 

His  first  mission  was  in  St.  Mary's  parish,  Elizabeth,  New  Jersey. 
The  remarkable  fidelity  with  which  he  discharged  the  duties  of  his 
calling  in  his  new  sphere,  is  a  matter  of  personal  knowledge  with  the 
writer.  The  sick  he  visited  almost  daily,  and  walked,  in  the  most  in- 
clement seasons,  to  their  abode  to  carry  the  consolations  of  religion 
to  the  troubled,  the  despairing,  and  the  down-hearted.  "Ah  !  "  said 
one  of  his  beneficiaries  to  me  one  day,  after  his  departure,  "  how  I 
miss  poor  Father  Tallon.  Every  day,  as  sure  as  the  sun  rose,  he 
crossed  the  threshold  of  my  door,  and  the  moment  he  came  in  I 
forgot  that  I  was  ever  ill."  Having  spent  himself  with  labor,  his 
delicate  constitution  succumbed  to  the  unequal  task,  and  he  was  sent 
to  St.  Anne's  Villa,  Madison,  New  Jersey,  to  recuperate.  After  a 
brief  respite,  his  ardent  desire  for  labor  being  unappeasable,  he  be- 
sought his  bishop  for  another  appointment,  and  was  transferred  to 
Passaic,  New  Jersey.  A  few  months  of  sacerdotal  toil  in  his  new 
field  of  labor  broke  him  down  again,  and  he  was  transferred  to  St. 
Joseph's  hospital,  Paterson,  New  Jersey,  where,  for  four  years,  his 
zeal,  his  piety,  and  his  unflagging  attention  to  the  sick,  won  the  ad- 
miration, respect,  and  even  reverence,  of  all  who  were  witness  to  the 
consummate  courage  and  indomitable  energy  of  a  man,  who,  while 
he  walked  daily  in  the  shadow  of  death,  took  no  thought  but  to  care 
for  the  temporal  and  spiritual  welfare  of  all  who  fell  under  his  heav- 
enly influence.  There,  surrounded  by  loving  friends,  and  the  com- 
pany of  Sisters  who  shared  his  labor  of  soothing  sorrow,  alleviating 
pain,  binding  up  the  wounds  of  the  sorrow-stricken  and  the  broken-^ 
heai-ted,  he  died  a  most  edifying  and  consoling  death  on  June  14, 
1890.  I  know  of  no  priest  whose  demise  was  so  universally  regret- 
ted, and  the  general  regard  for  his  person  and  character  was  point- 
edly expressed  on  the  day  of  his  funeral,  when  at  least  ninety  of  his 
brethren  were  gathered  in  the  sanctuary  to  pray  for  the  repose  of 
his  soul.     May  he  rest  in  peace.     May  he  walk  the  serene  heights  of 


593 

Sion's  holy  hill,  with  the  bright  diadem  on  his  head,  the  white-robed 
throngs  around  him,  and  the  approving  smiles  of  his  Saviour's  face 
beaming  upon  him  f  orevermore.  If  heavenly  recompense  is  the  meet 
reward  of  a  life  of  heroic  devotion  and  superhuman  unselfishness 
here  below,  to  him  is  given  that  "  white  stone  "  which  is  given  to  all 
who  in  singleness  of  heart  seek  to  know  and  walk  in  the  path  of 
duty.  The  dignity  of  his  nature,  the  value  of  life,  the  importance 
of  the  station  designed  for  him  in  the  ordinance  of  God,  were  the 
motives  of  his  conduct,  the  inspiration  of  his  heroism,  the  animating 
and  controlling  principle  of  all  his  deeds. 

His  winning  sweetness,  his  amiability  of  manner,  the  unfailing 
serenity  of  his  character  showed  that  celestial  peace  had  spread  her 
soft  and  silken  curtain  around  his  soul,  and  that  his  sunshiny 
temper  was  the  fruit  of  long  communion  with  the  spirits  of  the 
blessed. 

He  was  sagacious  in  council,  invaluable  in  friendship,  and  his 
heai-t  was  a  treasure-house  of  trust  and  confidence.  His  chaiity  was 
patterned  on  the  love  of  Christ,  and  was  as  broad  as  humanity,  as 
comprehensive  as  the  race.  Finding  no  evil  in  himself,  he  saw  none 
in  others,  and  was,  apparently,  as  optimistic  by  nature  as  he  was  by 
gi-ace.  He  was  just  and  discriminating,  bat  truly  generous  in  praise, 
and  was  never  known  to 

"  Damn  with  faint  praise,  assent  with  civil, 
And  without  sneering,  teach  others  to  sneer." 

Moral  truth,  like  the  beautiful  in  nature,  has  a  charm  for  the^  de- 
vout and  contemplative  mind;  and  from  the  crystal  wells  of  moral 
truth,  he  sought  to  draw  pure  draughts  of  living  water.  He  was  a 
sound  and  accurate  moral  theologian,  and  his  opinion  upon  subjects 
within  the  domain  of  this  intricate  and  perplexing  science  was  often 
worth  more  than  that  of  many  who  think  that  gray  hairs  make  wis- 
dom, and  that  age  always  brings  experience. 

His  life  was  deficient  in  incident,  as  the  world  understands  life. 
He  "dwelt  among  untrodden  ways."  His  lot  was  cast  among  the 
unnoticed  and  the  unknown,  and  he  preferred  to  chat  an  hour  with 
a  washerwoman  than  to  dwell  an  age  among  kings.  He  had  a  clear 
and  unclouded  brain,  a  keen  native  intelligence,  a  strong  fund  of 
homely  sense,  united  to  a  zeal  and  industry  that  never  wearied, 
38 


594 

■which,  had  his  life  been  crowned  with  years,  might  have  exalted 
him  to  no  inconspicuous  place  among  men.  But  in  what  would  he 
be  better  than  he  is  now  ?  He  might  have  gained  the  world  and  lost 
his  own  soul.  He  chose,  therefore,  to  be  true  to  himself,  to  religion, 
and  to  God;  to  be  humble  and  meek  and  lowly;  to  be  kind,  benig- 
nant, and  charitable ;  to  cast  his  lot  on  the  side  of  a  religion  which  is 
looked  down  upon  by  many  of  the  great  of  earth,  in  their  fancied 
superiority  and  in  their  self-conceit:— this  may  be  folly  with  the 
world,  but  with  God  it  is  the  wisdom  of  salvation.  He  was  a 
stranger  to  the  world,  but  he  was  the  friend  and  familiar  of  God. 
"  Outwardly,"  as  A  Kempis  says,  "  he  wanted  many  things,  but  in- 
wardly he  was  enriched  with  everything."  The  good  God  whose 
presence  was  an  atmosphere  wherein  he  walked  upon  this  earth  is 
the  crown  and  the  reward  of  a  life  spent  here  below  in  showing 
mercy  to  Himself  in  the  person  of  the  poor.  When  the  golden  gates 
of  the  heavenly  city  are  unbarred  to  the  great  arm}'^  of  the  redeemed, 
many  an  exultant  spirit  shall  rush,  to  greet  the  saintly  priest  and 
confessor,  who  had  been  instrumental  in  securing  her  salvation  and 
unfading  glory.     For 

"  Where  tears  were  to  he  dried,  or  suffering  hearts 
Healed  with  the  dew  of  peace — where  sin  was  felt 
Or  prayer  was  breathed,  or  injuries  forgiven, 
His  ready  foot  was  found,  his  voice  was  heard, 
\  Distilling  sweetness.     Spotless  were  the  robes 

That  o'er  his  actions  cast  their  graceful  folds, 
Adding  to  the  heavenly  truths  he  taught 
The  matchless  argument  of  a  pure  life,  ' 

A  name  unsullied  and  a  garment  white." 


SERMONS 


THE  ETERNAL  PRIESTHOOD  OF  JESUS  CHRIST. 

"  On  the  day  before  He  suffered,"  says  St.  Paul,  "  our  Divine  Ee- 
deemer  instituted  the  gi'eat  mystery  of  the  Holy  Eucharist."  When 
the  painful  image  of  His  purple  passion  stood  before  His  mind  in 
all  its  awful  meaning;  when  the  gray  twilight  of  Gethsemani  had  all 
but  overshadowed  Him;  when  death  was  soon  to  separate  Him  from 
the  dear  disciples  of  His  love,  it  must  have  given  Jesus  a  melan- 
choly satisfaction,  like  the  glow  of  an  evening  sunset  before  the 
storm-swept  night  comes  on,  to  break  bread  for  the  last  time  with 
those  Apostles  who  had  been  the  constant  companions  of  His  toils 
from  the  day  they  left  all  things  to  foUow  in  the  footsteps  of  the 
Master. 

His  pubHc  ministry  had  yielded  Him  naught  but  anxiety  and  sor- 
row. It  was  full  of  labor  and  fatigue.  Suffering  was  His  substance, 
and  poverty  was  His  portion  all  His  life,  and  the  prickly  thorns  of 
privation  so  incessantly  pierced  His  feet  upon  their  loving  journeys, 
that  He  may  be  said  to  have  married  sorrow  and  distress. 

The  Master  and  Maker  of  Nature,  as  He  was.  He  must  have  fondly 
loved  the  child  of  His  creation.  His  all-seeing  eyes  must  have  wan- 
dered often  among  her  beauties,  His  ears  have  drunk  in  her  music, 
and  His  soul  sipped  of  her  poetry;  for  from  her  vaiied  forms  His 
mind  extracted  the  sweetest  similes,  and  His  mouth  spoke  with 
finest  fluency  her  lovely  and  touching  language.  "  Behold  the  lilies 
of  the  field."     See  the  fig-tree  and  all  the  trees. 

The  dew  and  the  sunshine,  the  seed-time  and  the  harvest,  the 
flocks  and  the  fields,  had  a  sweet  attraction  for  the  gentle  sympathy 
of  His  soul  attuned  to  Nature's  harmonies.  He  held  sweet  converse 
with  the  silent  stars  upon  the  mountain-top;  He  preached  from  the 
shingly  shore  of  Galilee's  bright  lake,  and  from  the  blue  ripples  of 


its  breezy  surface  He  spoke  His  messages  to  the  listening  multitude. 
He  was  as  a  bridegroom;  nature  was  His  bridal- chamber,  but  a 
chamber  hung  with  mourning.  Many  a  time  He  drew  a  benediction 
on  His  troubled  spirit  from  the  calmness  of  the  morning,  or  the 
stillness  of  the  evening  twilight;  and  amid  the  solitude  of  nature,  He 
sought  surcease  from  sorrow,  when  His  burden  seemed  too  great 
for  Him  to  bear. 

But  darker  days  stole  on  apace.  Clouds  of  sombre  hue  were  hover- 
ing upon  the  horizon.  Heartrending  separation  darkened  the  near 
prospect.  Death,  with  bony  fingers,  beckoned  to  the  Son  of  Man 
from  his  lonely  throne,  and  his  icy  lips  uttered  the  solemn  warning 
that  the  hour  was  at  hand. 

But  He  has  yet  one  loving  duty  to  fulfill.  A  short  time — a  short 
time  only  can  He  tarry  with  His  disciples  at  the  frugal  board,  and 
thither  He  repairs  for  His  final  reflection  ere  He  die  for  love.  He 
would  teach  them  the  great  duty  of  thanksgiving,  and  raise  the 
chalice  of  benediction  to  their  lips.  He  would  feed  them  with  His 
own  hands,  not  in  bread  that  perisheth,  but  in  that  which  endureth 
unto  life  everlasting.  He  would  prepare  them  for  their  life-work, 
the  salvation  of  souls,  the  continuation  of  His  mission  on  earth.  He 
would  appoint  them  His  successors,  make  them  sharers  of  His  Son- 
ship,  partakers  of  His  priesthood, — the  priesthood,  holy,  unspotted, 
eternal,  after  the  order  of  Melchizedek.  How  sublime  the  scene — 
in  that  upper  room — that  coenacle  of  Jerusalem. 

It  was  like  the  felicitations  of  a  little  household,  on  the  eve  of  a 
final  separation — like  the  evening  song  of  birds,  assembled  on  the 
bough  of  a  high  tree,  each  to  seek  his  destined  flight  at  the  first 
beams  of  dawn. 

What  melancholy  grandeur  in  the  spectacle  of  Jesus  feasting  with 
His  followers  just  before  He  mounts  the  throne  of  the  cross.  What 
a  soft  and  mellow  lustre  irradiates  the  brow  of  the  heavenly  bride- 
groom, feeding  His  children  with  the  fat  of  corn,  the  manna  of  all 
sweetness,  before  He  passes  from  the  bridal-chamber  to  the  halls  of 
death. 

It  was  a  sad,  but  short  and  simple  ceremony.  With  divine  com- 
posure He  performed  the  farewell  act,  which  raised  His  Apostles 
to  the  priesthood,  and  inaugurated  the  religion  divinely  bequeathed 
to  His  followers  in  the  power  and  grace  of  God's  redeeming  love. 


599 

Look  on  the  figure  of  the  parting  Christ.  As  a  fond  father  about 
to  begin  a  journey,  he  calls  his  weeping,  sorrowing  sons  to  receive 
the  inheritance  which  he  acquired  for  them  by  his  toils  and  labors, 
reserved  for  bestowal,  to  the  final  moment.  "  Take,"  he  says,  "  my 
gift  in  loving  remembrance.  It  is  the  only  heirloom  I  have  to  give 
worthy  of  my  bounty  and  generosity."  That  inheritance  was  the 
immortal  treasure  of  Himself,  His  priesthood.  His  sacraments.  His 
Church,  His  grace,  His  salvation. 

Jesus  in  body,  indeed  departs;  the  wealth  of  His  spirit  remains. 
His  little  band  of  followers  He  invests  with  that  spirit,  and  that 
spirit  He  pours  out  into  the  ready  receptacles  of  their  souls,  making 
Himself  flesh  of  their  flesh  and  blood,  life  of  their  life.  He  incar- 
nates Himself,  He  embodies  and  reproduces  Himself  in  the  priests 
He  has  ordained,  and  through  them  in  all  their  spiritual  descend- 
ants till  time  shall  be  no  more.  He  gives  to  them  a  pledge  of  future 
glory,  and  in  planting  the  seed  of  immortality,  He  imparts  immor- 
tahty  before  the  completion  of  their  earthly  work  shall  ripen  them 
for  their  reward.  In  the  institution  of  the  Eucharist,  He  comple- 
ments His  incarnation,  for  He  impresses  His  character,  He  imparts 
His  life.  He  confers  His  powers  upon  the  new-bom  priesthood,  that 
by  the  force,  and  spirit,  and  strength  of  His  commission,  they  may 
carry  the  grace  of  redemption  to  every  individual  soul  who  shall  be 
grafted  by  their  hands  upon  the  fruitful  stock  of  Jesus  Christ. 

Although  modern  philosophy  has  not  made  sufficient  account  of 
it,  there  is  a  wonderful  power  of  absoi-ption  and  expansion  in  the 
human  soul — a  soul  boundless  in  her  aspirations  and  in  comprehen- 
sion like  a  God.  How  measureless  its  capacity  for  knowledge !  how 
infinite  its  aptitude  for  love !  Its  spiritual  possibilities  are  likewise 
incalculable.  Will  not  its  intelligence  constantly  expand,  its  affec- 
tions be  enlarged,  and  its  powers  be  magnified,  as  it  glows  with  new 
light  and  new  fervor  and  brightens  to  all  eternity;  when  "we  all  be- 
holding the  glory  of  the  Lord,  are  transformed  into  the  same  image 
from  glory  to  glory,  as  by  the  Sj^irit  of  the  Lord  "  ? 

This  transformation  continued  in  the  next  world  must  be  begun 
in  this. 

The  tendency  of  times,  directed  by  hard  materiahsm,  is  rather 
towards  extroversion  than  introversion.  Man  looks  without,  when 
he  should  look  within,  and  the  land  is  desolate   because  no  one 


600 

thinks  in  his  heart.  Man's  operations  follow  his  nature.  He  is  a 
complete  being  of  body  and  soul.  If  the  outer  works  are,  as  the 
Apostle  speaketh,  to  be  according  to  God,  the  secret  springs  of  action 
rooted  in  the  heart  and  mind,  must  be  moved  by  the  wisdom  and 
the  love  of  God;  for  as  the  spring  of  the  watch  governs  all  the 
movements  of  the  hands,  so  does  the  love  of  God,  and  conformity 
to  Christ  regulate  all  the  works  of  life.  Against  the  madness  of 
materialism,  the  priesthood  of  Christ  is  a  brass  wall  of  defense,  for 
it  is  the  pattern  of  perfection,  and  it  holds  up,  as  a  beacon  of  beati- 
tude to  shine  before  the  eyes  of  all,  the  model  of  the  interior  life, 
and  seeks  to  delineate  on  every  soul  the  image  of  Christ,  which  is 
stamped  by  the  hand  of  divinity  upon  its  own  immortal  essence : 
agreeably  to  the  words  of  the  Apostle,  "  Those  whom  He  foreknew 
He  predestined  to  make  conformable  to  the  image  of  His  Son." 

Nothing  short  of  absorption  and  assimilation  can  satisfy  the  desires 
of  that  Jesus,  who,  though  God,  became  the  Son  of  Man,  that  we  who 
are  men  might  become  the  sons  of  God.  That  by  the  fecundity  of  the 
priestly  power  conceded  to  His  ministers,  all  men  might  be  made  con- 
formable to  the  similitude  of  Christ,  might  lift  their  heads  higher  and 
higher  unto  heaven,  and  be  brought  nearer  to  God  upon  this  earth, 
the  more  to  make  secure  that  final  felicity  and  everlasting  happi- 
ness which  is  our  proper  inheritance.  He  lays  upon  them  the  obliga- 
tion of  eating  His  flesh  and  blood,  and  of  feeding  mankind  through 
the  ages,  from  the  same  heavenly  banquet,  conveying  His  divine 
injunction  in  the  memorable  words:  "This  do  in  commemoration  of 
Me."  Let  us  who  are  ordained  to  be  the  salt  of  the  earth,  and  the 
light  of  the  world,  by  the  efficacy  of  our  ministry  in  opening  the 
fountains  of  salvation  unto  others,  be  satisfied,  before  we  proclaim 
ourselves  His  priests,  that  every  bit  of  flesh,  and  every  drop  of  blood 
within  us,  is  Christ's  own  property. 

In  eating  His  flesh  and  drinking  His  blood,  they  received  the 
essential  elements  of  His  priestly  power;  and  they  assimilated  them; 
they  grew  upon  them  and  they  gained  a  new  life,  an  exalted  vitality, 
which  they  had  not  before,  and  which  they  were  empowered  to 
transmit  to  all  generations  of  posterity.  The  features  of  its  char- 
acter, so  to  say,  were  indelibly  impressed  upon  their  souls.  That 
spark  of  divinity  which  makes  humanity  God-like,  as  a  coal  of 
heaven's  fire,  was  burned  upon  them,  and  purified,  and  perfected; 


601 

like  Isaiah,  they  turned  to  God  with  heart,  mind,  and  soul,  crying, 
"  Lord,  here  we  are,  send  us."  It  was  then  they  were  filled  with  the 
good  odor  of  Christ;  then  they  received  of  the  royal  unction,  and 
were  anointed  above  their  fellows  in  the  kingly  priesthood;  then 
they  became  champions  of  the  cross,  soldiers  of  the  sanctuary,  ser- 
vitors in  the  tabernacles  of  the  Most  High  God. 

By  the  sacramental  offering  of  the  bread  and  wine,  Jesus,  the 
Master,  committed  to  His  servants  in  the  ministiy  the  absolute 
secret  of  His  life  and  mission,  the  bread  of  His  whole  being,  the 
word  which  came  out  of  the  mouth  of  God,  the  causes  for  which 
He  cast  aside  the  sparkling  splendor  of  celestial  glory,  and  came 
into  a  cold,  inhospitable  world. 

In  the  Eucharistic  institution  they  were  fired  with  the  fervor  of 
His  faith,  iUumed  by  the  light  of  His  love,  inspired  with  the 
spirit  of  His  humble,  self-forgetful,  urn-emitting  service,  which  the 
Pentecostal  fire  was  to  transform  into  flaming  zeal  to  bring  to  all 
flesh  the  salvation  of  God. 

By  the  fact  of  His  eternal  Sonship,  His  faith  included  the  whole 
world  in  Himself,  and  all  in  the  Father  and  the  Holy  Spirit;  for  the 
three  divine  persons  leaning  down  to  lift  up  humanity,  constitute 
that  kingdom  which  the  Son  of  God  was  sent  to  establish.  "  All 
things  are  yours,  and  you  are  Christ's,  and  Christ  is  God's." 

In  the  loyal  acceptance  of  this  heavenly  charge,  they  dedicated 
themselves  to  that  unselfish  and  impersonal  existence  which  involved 
the  annihilation  of  all  individual  interest,  all  carnal  craving,  and  in- 
fused a  new  life  in  the  spirit  and  power  of  Jesus  Christ. 

It  was  the  holy  intoxication  of  the  strong  wine  of  love  that  carried 
Jesus  on  from  suffering  to  suffering  till  all  was  consummated  on 
Calvary.  They  partook  of  the  wine;  they  ate  of  the  bread;  they 
perpetuated  the  rite,  and  they  were  filled  with  the  intense,  ardent 
enthusiasm  of  His  love — the  love  for  union  between  God  and  man. 

His  ardent  passion  for  the  future  of  humanity  Jesus  left  to  those 
who  took  up  His  work,  to  love  as  He  loved,  to  suffer  as  He  suffered, 
aye,  to  die,  if  need  be,  as  He  had  died. 

In  pai-taking  of  the  cup  of  the  new  and  eternal  covenant,  they 
were  incorporated  into  His  princely  priesthood;  they  were  invested 
with  the  golden  gloiy  of  His  God-given  power;  they  were  called  by 
Him,  upon  whose  brow  sat  the  light  of  ages  and  the  calmness  of  the 


602 

spheres,  to  rear  unto  His  majesty  and  worship  a  holy,  an  acceptable, 
and  an  everlasting  kingdom.  It  was  an  outward  separation;  an  in- 
ward union.  It  was  a  personal  bequest,  a  new  covenant,  a  final 
testament  at  a  most  tender  parting.  It  was  a  symbol  and  a  reality; 
a  sacrament  and  a  sacrifice;  a  command  and  a  commemoration;  a 
priesthood  and  a  people; — the  outward  embodiment  of  the  invisible 
Christ  by  the  mediation  of  a  minister  upon  the  holy  altar  of  the 
Church  of  Christianity.  Of  that  Church  the  Apostles  were  each  and 
all  a  vital  and  a  corporate  part;  but  the  cementing  blood  of  Christ 
ran  through  all,  combining  all,  enlivening  all,  uniting  all  in  the  Head- 
ship of  the  one  high-priest,  the  Lord  Christ  Jesus. 

There  is  a  divine  felicity  in  that  sweet  similitude  of  the  vine  and 
the  branches.  "  I  am  the  vine,  you  are  the  branches."  The  vine 
was  sown  together  with  its  branches  in  the  flesh  and  blood  of  Christ 
upon  the  soil  of  the  soul  of  the  Apostolic  Church,  and  the  heaven- 
appointed  husbandmen,  the  gardeners  of  God,  go  foiih  to  glean 
the  harvest  which  the  dews  of  divine  grace  make  full  with  rosy 
promise. 

At  the  feast  of  the  New  Passover,  on  the  night  of  the  last  supper, 
Christ  perpetuated  His  whole  life-work  in  the  summary  of  one 
transcendent  act,  and  forever  washed  the  Christian  Church  in  the 
oblation  of  His  blood,  and  fed  it  with  substance  of  His  being.  Thus 
He  perpetuated  His  ministry  in  those  He  called  to  minister  to  the 
world;  thus  He  established  His  eternal  priesthood  for  that  ministry 
of  unutterable  service  which  crowns  faith  and  love;  that  service 
which  has  sprung  up  like  the  lily,  everywhere, — wherever  the  name 
of  Christ  has  been  spoken  and  His  holy  religion  set  her  sandalled 
foot.  On  that  night  He  made  other  priests;  His  own  priesthood 
was  eternal. 

There  is  such  a  thing  as  the  evolution,  if  I  may  so  express  it,  of 
divine  purpose  in  the  order  and  history  of  religion.  There  is  a 
logical  sequence  in  the  divine  dispensations;  and  all  the  operations 
of  Deity  in  respect  of  nature  and  grace  are  connected  under  the 
economy  of  Providence.  They  form  a  continuous  chain,  a  concat- 
enated series  in  the  ideas — in  the  events  that  govern  God's  dealings 
with  His  creatures. 

The  Incarnation  is  made  possible  in  the  Blessed  Trinity,  and  the 
priesthood  is  a  portion  of  the  Incarnation.     In  Jesus  Christ  we  be- 


603 

hold  the  logical  sequence  of  Melchizedek.  Abel  was  the  prefigura- 
tion,  Moses  the  prototype,  of  Christ.  The  Jewish  leader  taught  stem 
justice  and  set  up  the  kingdom  of  law;  Jesus  laid  down  the  law  of 
love,  and  inaugurated  the  kingdom  of  grace.  The  New  Testament 
is  the  consectary  of  the  Old;  and  the  theology  of  love  the  comple- 
ment of  the  theology  of  fear.  The  eternal  priesthood  and  the  eternal 
sacrifice  of  Jesus  Christ  is,  by  this  law  of  divine  development,  the 
outcome  of  that  impulse  of  ineffable  goodness  which,  in  the  formless 
ocean  of  eternity,  led  the  Triune  God  to  externize  the  counsels  of 
His  wisdom  in  the  subUme  declaration,  "  Let  us  make  man  to  our 
image  and  likeness." 

From  the  beginning  of  being,  God,  in  His  omniscience,  gi-asped 
all  the  destinies  of  men.  His  unbounded  knowledge  beheld  irn  all 
the  fullness  of  their  relations,  the  causes  and  the  consequences  of 
human  sin  and  salvation.  His  far-beholding,  all-comprehending 
providence  seized  all  the  measure  and  magnitude  of  evil;  and  in  the 
same  wide-reaching  vision,  the  opportunities  and  the  occasions,  the 
ways  and  the  means  to  be  employed  in  His  dispensations  for  the 
deliverance  of  man  from  the  calamities  that  would  encompass  him. 
Therefore,  the  future  Christ,  both  as  a  personality  in  God  and  in 
the  ideal  order,  as  God  designed  to  make  Him,  existed  in  the  eternal 
and  impenetrable  depths  as  the  potential  energy  of  the  yet  unborn 
Saviour,  who  was  to  appear  in  the  fullness  of  God's  time.  He  was 
in  the  plan  of  God.  He  was  the  light  of  divine  reason  and  the  flame 
of  love  shining  in  the  far-off  ocean  of  etemit}'.  "  In  the  beginning 
was  the  Word,  and  the  Word  was  with  God,  and  the  Word  was 
God."  And  He  was  a  priest  forever,  according  to  the  order  of  Mel- 
chizedek, for  He  was  to  offer  Himself,  a  pure  and  unspotted  oblation, 
for  the  sins  of  men. 

O  Jesus.  God  of  love,  we  adore  Thee  with  all  the  powers  of  our 
soul,  as  the  great  victim  immolated  for  the  glory  of  Thy  Father  and 
the  redemption  of  mankind.  "Prefigured  and  foretold  from  the 
beginning  of  ages,  accomplished  a  bloody  sacrifice  in  the  fullness  of 
time,  renewed  every  day  upon  the  altar  by  the  hands  of  the  priest, 
the  mystery  of  Thy  immolation  will  be  forever  continued  in  heaven"; 
that  offering  which  was  the  most  glorious  and  meritorious  act  of 
Th}^  life,  will  be  unceasingly  ratified  in  the  presence  of  all  the 
heavenly  hosts,  before  the  throne  of  Thy   Father's  majesty  through 


604 

all  the  eternal  years  of  God.  "  I  saw,"  says  the  Apocalyptic  writer, 
"  I  saw  and  beheld  a  Lamb  standing  as  if  slain,  who  was  slain  from 
the  foundation  of  the  world." 

It  is  a  dogma  of  Catholic  belief  that  our  blessed  Redeemer  con- 
ferred upon  His  Apostles  the  power  of  the  priesthood,  when  He,  on 
that  memorable  night,  solemnly  charged  them  to  perpetuate  the 
sacrificial  rite  in  His  commemoration.  "  Do  this  in  commemoration 
of  me."  He  again  invested  them  with  the  power  of  the  keys,  when 
He  breathed  upon  them  the  unction  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  said, 
"  Receive  ye  the  Holy  Ghost,"  and  s^^bsequently  He  clothed  them 
with  the  pastoral  office,  comprehending  the  functions  of  ruling, 
teaching,  and  baptizing,  whereby  they  might  bring  all  mankind 
under  the  imperial  sway  of  His  kingdom,  and  gather  all  the  sheep, 
for  whom  He  shed  His  blood,  into  the  everlasting  sheepfold  of  the 
Saviour. 

Nothing  gives  what  it  has  not  to  bestow,  and  if  Jesus  conferred 
the  priesthood  upon  others,  He  was  a  priest  Himself.  As  in  Him 
dwelt  the  fullness  of  the  Godhead  corporally,  so  did  the  plenitude 
of  the  priestly  power;  for  "  being  the  splendor  of  His  Father's  glory 
and  the  figure  of  His  substance,  He  sitteth  on  the  right  hand  of 
majesty  on  high,"  as  far  above  the  angels  as  the  name  He  has  in- 
herited is  above  their  names.  For  to  which  of  the  angels  hath  the 
Father  said  :  "  Thou  art  My  Son,  this  day  have  I  begotten  thee." 
But  to  the  Son  He  saith  :  "  Thy  throne,  O  God,  is  forever  and  ever. 
A  sceptre  of  equity  is  the  sceptre  of  Thy  kingdom.  Thou  hast  loved 
justice  and  hateth  iniquity.  Therefore,  God,  thy  God,  has  anointed 
Thee  with  the  oil  of  gladness  above  all  Thy  fellows.  Sit  Thou  on 
My  right  hand  till  I  make  Thy  enemies  Thy  footstool." 

In  the  councils  of  eternity,  and  not  in  the  temple  of  time,  there- 
fore, the  Saviour  of  mankind  was  named  the  Christ,  for  He  was  to 
be  anointed  with  the  threefold  unction  of  Prophet,  Priest,  and 
King.  How  Jesus  was  anointed  to  a  higher  and  holier  priesthood 
than  that  of  Aaron  and  Leyi,  the  great  Apostle  of  the  Gentiles 
plainly  showeth  in  his  celebrated  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews.  From 
the  exalted  dignity  of  His  place  in  heaven,  at  the  right  hand  of  God; 
from  the  superior  excellence  of  the  victim  of  oblation,  and  from  the 
transcendent  lustre  of  His  unspotted  and  eternal  generation,  the 
priesthood  of  Jesus  is  as  far  above  the  dignity  of  Aaron  as  the 


605 

heavens  are  exalted  above  the  earth.  For  Jesus,  as  the  Apostle 
speaketh,  is  made  the  surety  of  a  better  Testament,  estabhshed  upon 
better  promises,  devoid  of  fault  or  blemish  like  the  former,  which 
was  the  shadow  and  the  semblance,  and  confirmed  upon  oath.  The 
Lord  hath  sworn  and  He  will  not  repent.  "  Thou  art  a  priest  for- 
ever, according  to  the  order  of  Melchizedek." 

In  Christ,  therefore,  we  behold,  not  many  priests,  but  one,  who 
continueth  forever,  and  hath  an  everlasting  priesthood — a  priest- 
hood, high,  holy,  innocent,  and  undefiled; — separated  from  sinners 
and  made  higher  than  the  heavens;  for  He  is  a  priest  who  needeth 
not  daily  to  offer  sacrifice  for  "His  own  sins  first,  and  then  for  the 
people,  for  this  He  did  once  in  offering  Himself.  In  Him  we  have 
such  a  high-priest  who  is  set  on  the  right  hand  of  the  throne  of 
majesty  in  the  heavens;  a  minister  of  the  Holies  and  of  the  true  tab- 
ernacle, pitched  not  by  man,  but  by  the  hand  of  God. 

Wherefore,  all  priests  soever  who  preceded  Christ,  only  served 
unto  the  example  and  the  shadow  of  heavenly  things,  as  the  rosy 
morning  showeth  the  full  noon  of  day,  as  the  seed  the  flower,  the 
acorn  the  future  oak,  the  feeble  type  the  blessed  reality.  "  Every 
priest,"  says  the  Apostle,  "  is  appointed  to  offer  gifts  and  sacrifices." 
Jesus  was  a  priest,  for  He  offered  sacrifice,  both  in  the  supper-room 
and  on  the  cross.  He  was,  by  eternal  generation,  a  priest  according 
to  the  order  of  Melchizedek,  who  was  without  beginning  or  end  of 
days;  for  in  the  Eucharistic  sacrifice  He  made  ministry  unto  God 
corresponding  unto  the  oblation  of  Melchizedek,  as  the  antitype  an- 
swers to  the  prototype,  the  truth  to  the  shadow,  the  fruition  to  the 
promise.  But  Christ  was  a  priest,  according  to  the  order  of  Mel- 
chizedek, not  by  the  ensanguined  immolation  of  Calvary,  but  by  the 
bloodless  sacrifice  on  Maundy-Thursday  at  the  last  supper,  and  on 
this  sacrifice  of  mystic  oblation  depends  the  whole  sacerdotal  order. 

What  is  the  priesthood  of  Jesus  Christ  ?  For  to  know  the  priest- 
hood of  Christ  is  to  know  our  own. 

Some  theologians  teach  that  if  Adam  had  not  sinned,  Christ  would 
still  have  become  incarnate;  and  if  He  became  incarnate,  He  would 
have  become  a  priest,  for  He  would  have  offered  Himself,  a  holo- 
caust of  love,  to  His  eternal  Father:  for  even  on  the  cross,  He  offered 
Himself  for  sin,  only  because  He  willed  it. 

Let  us  dive,  as  far  as  reason  will  permit,  into  the  plans  of  God, 


606 

and  view  the  widely-extended  relations  of  creation  and  redemp- 
tion. ^ 

There  is  but  one  supreme  God;  there  can  be  no  more.  Happy  in 
the  contemplations  of  His  own  infinite  perfections,  He  reigned,  from 
eternity,  in  the  bliss  that  beamed  from  the  unclouded  splendor  of 
His  own  essence.  In  the  unconfined  bosom  of  His  divinity  He  pos- 
sessed the  plenitude  of  all  perfection,  and  the  fullness  of  all  being. 
In  the  three  personalities,  rooted  in  one  and  the  same  inimitable  and 
immortal  nature,  He  enjoyed  society,  companionship,  and  love.  His 
joy  was  as  the  ocean.  His  happiness  like  the  recesses  of  the  deep  be- 
fore the  morning  stars  praised  Him  together,  or  the  sons  of  God 
made  joyful  melody.  More  He  needed  not,  and  less  He  could  not 
have. 

Goodness  is  an  attribute  inseparable  from  the  essence  of  the  God- 
head. By  an  impulse  of  divine  love.  He  resolved,  in  His  supreme 
wisdom,  upon  man's  creation.  The  communication  of  His  goodness 
was  the  lofty  design  of  omnipotence  and  love.  Pursuant  to  this 
gracious  purpose,  the  three  adorable  persons  said  in  the  deliberations 
of  eternity,  "  Let  us  make  man  to  our  own  image  and  likeness,  to 
the  likeness  of  the  Triune  God  shall  he  conform."  What  was  the 
impelling  motive  ?  It  was  nothing  distinct  from  God  Himself,  for 
outside  of  Him  nothing  did  exist.  No;  it  was  His  own  sweet  will, 
moved  by  the  goodness  and  loving  liberality  of  His  heart,  and  per- 
suading Him  to  pour  out  Himself  upon  the  works  of  His  creation. 

In  the  logical  order,  the  first  and  cardinal  fact  in  nature  is  not 
creation,  but  the  Incarnation  of  the  Son  of  God.  In  the  same  order, 
the  Incarnation  is  the  final  and  disposing  cause  of  creation,  and  it  is 
the  sole  and  sufficient  reason  why  the  angels  exist,  why  the  heavens 
have»their  being,  why  the  world  was  made,  and  why  man  lives,  and 
lives  the  life  he  does  in  the  sphere  wherein  he  has  been  placed  by  God. 

In  the  determinations  of  time  we  can  name  the  very  day,  when, 
kneeling  at  her  feet,  the  angel  Gabriel,  white-robed  messenger  of 
God,  hailed  the  lowly  maid  of  Nazareth  as  full  of  grace,  and  pro- 
claimed the  fruit  of  her  womb  blessed  in  the  future  Redeemer  of 
mankind.  But  to  trace  and  explore  the  history  of  the  Incarnation, 
we  must  light  our  way  by  the  luminous  torch  of  faith,  and  soar  on 
the  wings  of  faith  to  those  sublime  heights  of  contemplation,  whence 
we  can  study  the  blessed  Trinity,  before  time  began  to  flow,  and  be- 


607 

fore  that  melodious  morning  when  the  angelic  choirs  sang  the  joy- 
ous canticle  of  their  heavenly  birth. 

But,  my  brethren,  I  am  confounded  by  our  own  temerity,  and 
amazed  at  the  audacity  of  the  proposal.  I  forbear  from  what  must 
end  in  futility  and  terminate  in  defeat.  "  Wonderful  are  Thy  ways, 
O  God  ";  Thy  wisdom  is  high,  and  I  cannot  reach  it. 

In  the  narrowness  of  our  comprehension  we  can  but  affirm  that 
the  three  persons  of  the  Blessed  Trinity,  resolving  on  creation,  de- 
termined that  God,  the  second  person,  should  assume  human  nature, 
and  become  incarnate  in  the  womb  of  the  Virgin  Mary.  The  angels 
were  called  from  nothing  to  be  messengers  of  God's  behests  to  men. 
The  world  was  formed  and  shaped  to  be  His  kingdom,  and  man  was 
created  of  soul  and  body,  that  the  Son  of  the  Most  High  might  have 
subjects  to  govern  and  souls  to  beautify  in  Paradise. 

How  the  gracious  designs  of  God  were  manned  by  the  sin  of  man, 
it  falls  not  within  our  purpose  to  explain,  since  God  stooped  down 
from  His  everlasting  throne  beyond  the  stars,  to  raise  man,  by  a  liv- 
ing personal  union,  to  a  higher  state  of  happiness  than  he  enjoyed 
in  the  sinless  innocence  of  Eden.  The  Incarnation  is  by  conse- 
quence the  central  dogma  of  Christianity;  the  foundation  of  our 
faith;  the  anchor  of  our  hope;  the  royal  road  to  righteousness;  and 
the  only  way  to  salvation,  by  which  all  may  gain  the  goal  where 
charity  is  made  perfect,  and  humanity  is  crowned  with  glory. 

As  by  the  unerring  laws  of  gravitation  the  stars  and  planets  circle 
round  the  sun,  fixed  in  their  spheres  by  his  magnetic  attraction,  so 
do  we  behold  the  whole  cycle  of  creation,  the  vast  revolution  of  hu- 
man events  and  causes,  revolve  around  the  Incarnation  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ. 

In  the  earliest  phase  of  life,  whether  in  the  unregenerate»  infant, 
or  the  barbarian,  untaught  of  God,  man  with  all  his  marvellous  or- 
ganism is  raised  but  little  above  the  plane  of  brute  creation.  He 
may  rise  in  the  scale  of  humanity  by  culture  and  education  to 
heights  almost  immeasurable.  But  still  he  is  far  from  the  purpose 
of  creation,  and  far  from  the  kingdom  of  God.  One  thing  more  was 
necessary. 

When  God  had  asserted  His  power  over  the  animal  and  vegetable 
kingdoms,  and  ruled  the  rational  creatures  during  the  period  of 
prepai-ation,  the  volume  of  the  Old  Testament  was  closed,  and  the 


608 

new  dispensation  began.  He,  of  whom  it  was  written  in  the  head 
of  the  chapter,  '*  Behold,  I  come,"  issued  from  the  vast  and  silent 
depths  of  eternity,  and  stood  forth  among  the  works  of  His  creation, 
that  when  He  was  one  day  lifted  up,  He  might  draw  ail  things  unto 
Himself. 

Man  was  no  longer  to  be  the  creature  merely,  but  was  now  to  be- 
come the  Son  of  God.  Therefore  did  the  second  person  of  the 
Blessed  Trinity  assume  human  flesh;  therefore  was  our  Saviour  born 
of  the  Virgin  in  Bethlehem's  bleak  stable ;  therefore  the  Incarnation 
of  Jesus  Christ,  the  alliance  of  the  Godhead  with  our  common 
humanity,  was,  in  the  fullness  of  time,  accomplished,  and  "  the  Word 
was  made  flesh  and  dwelt  amonst  us";  and  we  saw  His  glory,  the 
glory  as  it  were  of  the  only-begotten  of  the  Father,  full  of  grace 
and  truth. 

But  the  development  of  Sonship  in  a  single  individual  did  not 
fulfill  the  sublime  purpose  of  creation,  nor  realize  the  perfect  plan  of 
redemption.  The  sanctification  of  human  souls  was  the  motive  of 
the  Incarnation;  for  as  Christ  died"  for  the  destruction  of  sin,  so  is  He 
risen  for  our  justification.  The  great  and  final  cause  of  the  Incarna- 
tion was  each  and  every  individual  soul;  it  was  the  development  of 
the  Sonship  of  God  in  all  the  members  of  humanity  without  excep- 
tion or  distinction. 

Christ  was  the  way.  But  who  was  to  lead  the  way  ?  Christ  was 
the  truth.  Who  was  to  teach  the  truth  ?  Christ  was  the  Hfe.  Who 
was  to  impart  the  life  ? 

Behold,  then,  the  priesthood  of  Jesus  Christ;  His  grace.  His  sac- 
raments, His  bonds  of  union.  His  channels  of  salvation.  Behold  the 
operations  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  inspiring  and  energizing  the  priest- 
hood by  His  celestial  fire,  for  the  completion  of  the  Eternal  plan, 
and  thus  involving  the  joint  concurrence  of  the  three  divine  persons 
in  the  efiicacious  work  of  the  salvation  of  mankind. 

The  mystery  of  the  Trinity  is  essentially  necessary  to  the  idea  of 
God.  There  is  no  conception  of  God  but  that  which  regards  the 
threefold  determination  of  the  divine  essence,  as  Father,  Son,  and 
Holy  Ghost.  They  constitute  three  real  relations,  distinct  in  person- 
ality, convergent  as  to  nature.  Yet  these  three  ai"e  one:  the  con- 
ceiver,  the  conception,  and  the  love  inspired. 

Apart  from  them  God  could  neither  love,  nor  exist,  nor  know. 


609 

What  is  a  being  without  love  ?  What  a  being  without  life  ?  And 
what  a  being  without  action  ?  for  what  is  life  but  action  ? 

The  Trinity  is  necessary  to  the  Incarnation,  but  the  Incarnation  is 
necessary  for  the  priesthood.  Christ  came  from  God  the  Father; 
He  came  to  heal  and  to  save;  the  Spirit  of  love  He  sent  to  carry 
humanity  back  to  the  beginning  of  its  being  in  the  bosom  of  God. 

The  Father  displays  His  wisdom  in  creation,  and  calls  all  to  the 
Sonship  of  His  Christ.  Then  from  this  eternal  seed,  Jesus  Christ, 
is  evolved  a  whole  full  harvest  of  ever-multiplying  Christs,  in  the 
grace  of  His  Sonship  by  adoption.  Yes,  we  are  all  Christs  in  a  sense, 
as  we  are  likened  unto  Him,  and,  as  St.  Peter  says,  made  partakers 
of  the  divine  nature. 

To  develop  in  every  man  the  Sonship  of  Jesus  Christ,  is  the 
sublime  office  of  the  priesthood.  The  purpose  of  Christ's  life  and 
ministry  was  affiliation  of  human  nature  with  the  divine.  Human 
-nature  is  perfected  and  sanctified  by  affiliation.  Thousands  of  years 
elapsed  before  the  achievement  was  begun;  thousands  more  shall 
pass  away  before  its  final  accomplishment  in  the  individual  soul,  and 
it  will  go  on  forever  by  the  throne  of  God  from  grace  to  grace,  and 
from  glory  to  glory.  All  knowledge,  all  literature,  all  science,  all 
philosophy,  centres  here,  and  here  also  they  end.  Christ  is  not  the 
monopoly  of  any  nation;  He  is  for  all  men  and  for  all  time.  He  is 
God  and  He  is  man;  and  He  is  the  model  man.  Genuine,  deep- 
fouled,  pure-minded  humanity  is  found  in  Him,  as  light  lives  in  the 
sun.  The  unique  character  of  self -surrender  to  His  Father  was  the 
salient  characteristic  of  His  life.  His  meat  and  drink  was  to  do  the 
will  of  Him  who  sent  Him.  He  emptied  Himself;  He  abased  Him- 
self, and  as  self  ebbed  away,  heaven  poured  into  His  soul,  and  the 
absolute  reconciliation  of  the  Father  and  the  Son  was  accomplished 
by  the  sacrifice  of  Jesus  Christ  in  behalf  of  sin-burdened  humanity. 

The  priesthood  of  Christ  is  then  a  part  of  His  Incarnation.  It  is 
the  office  which  He  voluntarily  assumed  in  the  vestment  of  our  man- 
hood for  the  redemption  of  the  race.  He  is  our  Mediator.  He  is 
our  victim.  He  is  our  sacrifice.  He  is  our  Melchizedek  without 
beginning  or  end  of  days. 

The  Old  Law,  from  first  to  last,  was  but  the  foreshadowing  of  the 
priesthood  of  Christ.  The  idea  of  sacrifice  was  taught  by  God  Him- 
;self,  for  it  was  not  inherent  in  the  mind  of  man.  Man  is  a  dependent 
39 


610 

being,  and  sacrifice  demonstrates  his  dependence.  Abel  yielded  up> 
the  firstlings  of  his  flock,  and  Cain  the  first-fruits  of  his  harvest. 
The  Israelites  immolated  the  Paschal  Lamb,  and  sprinkled  the  door- 
posts with  his  blood  of  expiation.  Beneath  the  tree  of  Mamre  where 
Abraham  broke  bread  with  the  angels,  he  also  presented  a  holocaust 
to  G-od.  In  the  dark  days  of  their  captivity,  the  sorrowful  Jews  by 
Babylon's  sad  waters,  offered  the  blood  of  bulls  and  goats  to  ap- 
pease the  implacability  of  divine  anger.  Melchizedek,  king  of 
Salem,  and  prince  of  peace,  made  the  offering  of  bread  and  wine 
before  the  tabernacle  of  the  Lord,  and  under  the  white  light  of  the 
Shekinah.  The  whole  world  was  an  altar,  whence  the  smoke  of 
sacrifice  ascended  to  the  high  heavens  of  God.  Amid  the  birds  and 
nightingales  of  Persia,  the  victim's  cry  stilled  the  singing  of  the 
choristers.  Beneath  the  wide-spreading  branches  of  the  ancient 
oak,  to  the  melody  of  the  murmuring  waters,  to  the  sighing  of  the 
trees,  the  devoted  victim  laid  his  head  upon  the  stone  while  the 
sacrificial  knife  was  crimsoned  with  his  out-gushing  life-blood. 
Csesar  in  his  commentaries  tells  how  the  ancient  Gauls  shed  human 
blood  to  satisfy  their  deities,  and  fierce  Vikings  of  the  North  sipped 
blood  from  the  skulls  of  vanquished  foes  in  the  halls  of  this  Walhalla. 
The  idea  expressed  by  Ovid  was  wide-spread  among  all  nations. 

"  Cor  pro  corde,  precor,  pro  fibris  accipe  fibras. 
Hanc  animam  vobis  pro  meliore  damus." 

The  innocent  for  the  guilty;  life  for  life;  soul  for  soul,  was  the 
fundamental  idea  and  the  foundation  of  all  sacrifice. 

Nearly  every  pagan  nation  had  some  clearly-defined  tradition  re- 
specting a  primeval  fall  and  a  subsequent  atonement.  Both  Plato 
and  Aristotle  make  reference  to  the  subject.  Every  reader  of  Eschy- 
lus  knows  the  tragic  story  of  Prometheus,  chained  to  the  adaman- 
tine rock,  his  eyes  plucked  out,  his  eyeballs  dripping  with  blood,, 
and  crying  in  wail  and  lamentation, 

"  Alas  !  alas  !     Ah  !  jne  unfortunate  ! 
Whither  in  the  world  am  I  going  ? 
Ah  !  me  oppressed  with  night, 
Unseen,  untold,  unwelcome  !  " 

The  day  of  deliverance  would  come  only  when  a  God  should  bring 
release,  and  descend  into  the  darksome  depths  of  Tartarus  to  redeem 


611 

the  sufferer  by  his  vicarious  sacrifice.  On  the  sandy  wastes  that 
border  on  the  Persian  Gulf,  the  devotee  knelt  in  prayer,  making 
BuppHcation  to  his  deity  Ormus  to  send  his  first-begotten  son  Mith- 
ras to  make  speedy  reparation  for  the  miseries  wrought  by  the  evil- 
god  Ahiiman.  The  evil  genius  of  the  Egyptians,  Typhon,  was  to 
sustain  defeat  at  the  hands  of  the  sister  of  Osiris,  and  bring  redemp- 
tion to  the  children  of  Ramises.  Socrates  is  said,  according  to 
Plato,  to  have  taught  his  disciples  to  await  a  Saviour  who  would 
teach  mankind  their  conduct  and  behavior  towards  the  gods.  The 
Hindoos  lived  in  expectation  of  the  incarnation  of  Brahma,  when 
the  evil  influence  of  Kaliga  would  forever  be  dispelled. 

Still  more  strongly  was  the  idea  of  sacrifice  taught  and  cherished 
among  the  chosen  people  of  Grod,  and  the  expectation  of  a  future 
Redeemer  impressed  upon  the  mind  and  imagination  of  the  Jews. 
Every  rite  and  ceremony  touched  upon  this  hope;  every  law  rested 
on  this  basis;  every  custom  bore  upon  this  expectation;  their  whole 
polity  and  constitution  was  framed  in  reference  to  this  conviction, 
and  every  sign  and  symbol  was  a  type  of  this  glorious  and  God- given 
reahzation.  The  brazen  serpent  lifted  up  in  the  desert  before  the 
eyes  of  all;  the  emissary  goat  bearing  the  burden  of  the  people's 
crimes;  the  Paschal  Lamb  immolated  f or  pui'poses  of  expiation;  the 
manna  coming  down  from  heaven  to  save  the  nation  from  famishing; 
the  oblations  of  the  priests  within  and  without  the  temple;  and  the 
innumerable  holocausts  offered  everywhere,  as  well  as  the  figure  of 
the  innocent  Isaac  about  to  be  delivered  to  death  by  the  hand  of  his 
own  father,  all  strikingly  typified  the  great  sacrifice  to  be  one  day 
accomplished  on  the  blood-crowned  heights  of  Calvary  for  the  salva- 
tion of  the  whole  human  race. 

Moses  authorized  sacrifice,  and  nearly  every  purification  in  the 
Mosaic  law  was  made  by  blood. 

A  sacrifice  everywhere  existed,  so  did  the  priesthood,  for  the  one 
implies  the  other.  For,  what  is  a  priest  ?  A  priest  is  one  set  apart 
to  perform  the  offices  of  religion,  but  particularly  and  chiefly  the 
duty  of  sacrifice.  The  priesthood  is  consequently  co-extensive  with 
religion,  and  there  has  never  been  a  people  without  priests.  In 
Mexico,  at  the  period  of  the  conquest,  there  were  four  millions  ac- 
cording to  Prescott. 

To  the  priests,  as  the  Vicegerents  of  God  on  earth,  the  primacy 


612 

of  honor  among  the  castes  was  assigned  by  Brahmins.  Among  the 
Buddhists  they  were  regarded  as  the  ideal  of  perfect  life,  and  were 
supposed,  by  their  hoHness  and  purity,  to  be  destined  to  overcome 
the  evil  influence  of  matter,  and  to  prepare  mankind  for  the  second 
incarnation  and  final  beatitude  of  Nirvana.  In  the  family  of  Aaron 
the  priesthood  was  hereditary,  and  the  first-born  of  the  oldest  branch 
of  the  family,  if  devoid  of  blemish,  was  chosen  for  the  honorable 
office  of  High-priest. 

Of  all  the  offices  that  man  can  be  called  upon  to  assume,  the 
priesthood  is  the  highest  and  the  holiest,  and  its  sacrilegious  usurpa- 
tion was  punished  by  God  Himself  with  signal  severity,  for  the 
ground  opened  to  engulf  Core  Dathon  and  Abiron,  who  set  their 
unhallowed  feet  within  the  dread  precincts  of  the  sanctuary. 

In  the  present  economy  of  salvation,  the  graces  of  redemption  flow 
from  the  great  sacrifice  of  Calvary,  through  the  sacraments  instituted 
by  our  Saviour.  Sacraments  are  to  be  administered  to  men  by  men, 
and  hence  the  priesthood  is  essential  to  salvation. 

To  bring  home  to  every  man  the  fruit  of  Christ's  redemption,  the 
priesthood  and  the  sacramental  system,  twin  flowers  on  the  stem  of 
the  Incarnation,  were  established  by  our  Lord,  as  the  full  unfolding 
of  the  blossoms  on  the  tree  of  life.  The  whole  sacramental  system 
is  neither  more  nor  less  than  Christ  passing  along  the  road  of 
humanity,  teaching,  touching,  healing,  and  baptizing  the  sin-sick 
multitude. 

The  office  of  the  priest  merits  our  attention,  and  claims  admira- 
tion.    For  what  is  the  office  of  the  priest  ? 

It  is  to  stand  by  to  witness  the  final  agony  of  the  dying,  to  cheer 
and  console;  it  is  to  pour  the  blessed  balm  of  religious  consolation 
into  the  trembling  breast;  it  is  to  feed  the  sufferer  with  the  "fat  of 
corn,"  the  milk  of  God's  children,  and  the  bread  of  eternal  life;  it 
is  to  anoint  him  wifch  the  oil  of  fortitude  for  the  strenuous  struggle; 
to  cleanse  him  in  the  healing  bath  of  the  Eedeemer's  blood;  to  give 
him  hope,  the  bower-anchor  of  the  soul,  and  an  assured  confidence 
in  the  wideness  of  God's  mercy,  and  the  greatness  of  God's  good- 
ness; it  is,  in  fine,  to  take  the  soul,  purified  and  regenerated,  from 
its  tenement  of  clay,  and  hand  it  into  the  everlasting  arms  of  its 
Maker. 

It  is  to  die  daily  to  himself;— to  hold  the  flowering  rod  of  Aaron 


613 

"with  undefiled  hands,  and  walk,  like  Enoch  and  Moses,  with  the 
Lord;  it  is  to  prefer  before  his  Maker,  the  sacrifice  of  Christ  and 
Melchizedek  with  pure  heart  and  purpose;  to  break  the  bread  of 
God's  word  with  unstinted  liberality  to  the  hungry  flock;  to  wear 
the  threshold  of  the  doors  in  the  homes  of  the  poor,  the  sick,  and  the 
dying,  and  show  himself,  in  all  that  a  reUgion  of  love  and  mercy  can 
dictate,  a  devoted  and  self-denying  minister  of  the  Master. 

What  is  a  priest  ?  He  is  "  another  Christ."  The  compassion  of 
Christ  he  carries  in  his  bosom ;  the  love  of  Christ  lives  in  his  soul. 
"  Many  waters  cannot  quench  charity,  neither  can  floods  drown  it," 
and  the  mantle  of  this  divine  charity  is  burned  upon  his  being  on 
the  day  of  his  ordination.  On  that  day  he  devoted,  come  weaJ, 
come  woe,  the  undivided  loyalty  of  his  heart,  and  the  undivided 
service  of  his  whole  existence  to  his  God.  Christ  lived  in  God, 
loved  in  God,  taught  in  God,  and  suffered  in  God,  that  every  priest, 
who  is  a  second  Christ,  might  live,  and  love,  and  teach,  and  suffer  in 
God. 

Christ  chose  poverty;  so  must  the  priest.  The  foxes  had  holes, 
and  the  birds  of  the  air  had  shelter,  but  the  Son  of  Man  had  not 
whereon  to  lay  His  head.  Was  His  throne  of  gold  and  sapphires  ? 
Were  His  ministers  emissaries  of  wealth?  His  sceptre  was  a  reed; 
His  crown  was  made  of  thorns.  He  was  naked  and  thirsty;  He  was 
bleeding  and  pierced;  a  King,  scorned  in  life  and  adored  in  death. 
He  died  as  a  felon.  And  of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  Such 
is  the  legacy  He  left  to  His  priests;  a  legacy  that  calls  them  to  a  life 
of  martyrdom.  They  must  scale  the  mountain  of  sorrow,  and  walk, 
if  need  be,  the  dolorous  way  of  death. 

What  is  the  priest  ?  He  is  a  leader  of  men.  O  for  a  leading 
hand  and  a  few  loving  souls  to  hft  humanity  to  God.  The  priest  is 
a  leader  who  knows  the  way,  and  fears  not  to  walk  therein.  No 
peril  can  daunt,  no  enemy  can  terrify,  no  power  earth-born  or  hell- 
begotten,  can  cause  him  to  swerve  from  the  course  of  his  heaven- 
commanded  mission  as  the  guide,  the  teacher,  the  saver  of  souls.  He 
is  a  sympathizer  in  suffering,  a  friend  in  necessity,  and  a  father  in 
generating  souls  to  God. 

The  priest  is  charged  with  the  interests  of  the  people  before  God. 
"The  government  is  on  his  shoulders."  He  is  an  angel,  unceasingly 
ascending   and  descending  the  ladder  of  Jacob,  and  bearing  the 


614 

petitions  of  his  people  even  to  the  mercy-seat  of  God.  He  is  a  pon- 
tiff, which  signifies  a  bridge,  because  he  is  a  mediator  between  the 
creature  and  the  Creator: — "A  bridge  always  open  for  the  passing 
of  acts  of  homage  and  adoration  on  the  one  side,  and  the  transmis- 
sion of  heavenly  blessings  on  the  other."  He  is  the  dispenser  of 
sacred  things;  the  bearer  of  all  blessings;  the  giver  of  good  tidings 
in  the  Gospel,  the  agent  of  the  Almighty,  and  vicegerent  of  Jesus 
Christ.  He  is  the  leaven  of  humanity,  the  annealer  of  the  race. 
The  reflected  splendor  of  divinity,  shooting  from  the  unclouded 
brightness  of  Christ,  environs  him.  He  precedes  the  poor  pilgrim 
child  of  Adam  like  a  star  in  the  night  to  light  his  way  to  the  shining 
summits  of  Paradise,  and  "  as  the  bird  each  fond  endearment  tries, 
to  tempt  its  new-fledged  ojffispring  to  the  skies,"  so  he  employs  every 
art  and  every  prayer  to  win  the  wayward  wanderer  back  to  God. 

The  seal  of  God  is  on  his  forehead;  the  law  of  God  is  upon  his 
lips;  the  power  of  God  is  in  his  hand.  The  pierced  hand  of  Christ 
lifted  empires  off  their  hinges,  and  "  turned  the  stream  of  centuries 
in  their  channel,"  and  in  the  person  of  His  priests  He  still  governs 
the  world. 

The  prophet  of  old  raised  his  hand  and  the  fire  came  down  from 
heaven  for  the  consumption  of  the  victim;  the  priest  of  the  New  Law 
pronounces  but  the  words,  "  This  is  My  Body,"  and  lo  !  the  angels 
hover  nigh,  the  heavens  bend  above  us,  and  the  great  God  of  power, 
and  majesty,  and  glory  descends  from  the  throne  of  eternal  empire 
to  take  up  His  dwelling  in  the  lonely  tabernacle  of  our  altar.  Yes, 
Jesus  Christ,  the  Judge  of  the  living  and  the  dead,  the  great  God  of 
us  all,  thus  stoops  to  our  infirmities;  the  eternal  is  swayed  by  the 
temporal;  the  infinite  by  the  finite;  the  Creator  by  the  creature;  God 
by  man. 

Such,  Kev.  Father  Hogan,  is  the  nature  of  that  priesthood  of 
which  you  are  a  true  representative,  nay,  an  ornament  and  a  light. 

I  am  not  here  to  indulge  in  aimless  praise  or  senseless  adulation. 
I  speak  not  my  own  language,  but  the  language  of  those  whose 
eminent  abilities  and  lofty  station  in  the  Church  give  weight  to  their 
words  and  power  to  their  praise.  This  is  not  the  encomium  of  my 
mouth,  but  the  well-merited  eulogy  of  the  Rt.  Rev.  Dr.  George 
Conroy,  Papal  Ablegate  to  the  United  States,  whose  untimely  loss  we 
all  deplored.     This  is  the  sentiment,  and  this  the  conviction  of  many 


615 

priests  and  some  bishops  whom  I  have  met  between  the  Atlantic  sea- 
board and  the  Eocky  Mountains.  This,  I  am  sure,  is  the  sentiment 
of  your  own  Ordinary,  the  Rt.  Rev.  Bishop  of  Trenton. 

You  left  the  famous  Seminary  of  All-Hallows,  wherein  you  re- 
ceived your  theological  training  with,  as  I  am  told,  the  brightest 
honors  accorded  to  any  man  within  its  walls  during  the  long  space 
•of  a  quarter  of  a  century.  You  left  the  green  hillsides  of  your 
native  land  to  pursue  your  priestly  labors  in  the  far-off  wilds  of 
Australia;  and  thence  seeking  a  wider  field  of  usefulness,  you  came 
across  continents  and  oceans  to  the  land  of  liberty  and  the  home  of 
freedom.  Here  have  you  labored — labored  with  unrepining  patience 
in  the  vineyard  of  the  Master,  bearing  the  heat  and  burden  of  the 
day,  during  all  these  years.  I  am  not  here  to  preach  your  pane- 
gyric. Nor  is  it  necessary.  Camden,  Mount  Holly,  East  Newark, 
and  Trenton  speak  for  you  to-day. 

To  me  are  personally  known  your  arduous  and  self-sacrificing 
labors  on  the  banks  of  the  Passaic.  Amid  the  mephitic  odors  of 
miasma,  and  the  fell  exhalations  of  malaria,  where  hundreds  were 
falling  around  you — falling  to  rise  no  more, — you  left  the  scanty 
comforts  of  your  study,  or  arose  in  the  dead  of  night  to  seek  out 
the  cabins  of  the  poor,  the  sick,  and  the  dying,  and  in  front  of  the 
pitiless  storm,  in  the  teeth  of  the  driving  sleet,  in  the  face  of  the 
cold  night  rain  and  wind,  to  carry  consolation  to  the  cheerless  and 
the  fatherless,  and  to  aid  in  all  that  the  sweet  religion  of  a  loving 
Jesus  can  inspire  the  sympathetic  heart  of  man  to  do  for  his  fellow- 
men.  And,  sir,  your  memory  is  a  benediction  there  to-day.  Not 
long  ago  the  present  pastor  of  that  city  said  to  me  :  "  Father 
Hogan's  work  still  lives."  Yes,  it  lives,  and  will  live  on  forever,  like 
the  shadow  of  a  great  rock  in  a  weary  land,  never  to  pass  away 
tiU  the  heavens  be  shrivelled  as  a  scroll,  and  earth  be  swallowed  in 
eternity. 

Of  your  labors  in  the  parish  of  the  Sacred  Heart,  why  should  I 
gpeak  to-day?  Let  the  work  proclaim  the  praise.  These  walls  have 
words,  every  stone  in  this  temple  has  a  tongue;  the  whole  parish 
has  a  voice  to-day.  This  majestic  edifice,  topped  by  the  massive 
dome  and  golden  cross,  bears  the  name  of  its  humble  artificer, 
Father  Hogan,  up  to  the  very  battlements  of  God.  These  are  strik- 
ing monuments,  because  visible  to  the  eye.     But  there  are  others 


616 

more  important,  if  less  obvious,  because  written  upon  the  hearts  and 
minds  of  men.  They  are  monuments  of  truth  and  goodness  and 
holiness.  They  are  seen  in  the  piety  of  your  people,  in  the  recti- 
tude of  their  conduct,  in  the  loyalty  and  beauty  of  their  unblemished 
Catholicity.  Father  Hogan  lives  in  his  people.  Upon  their  souls  he 
has  stamped  his  pure  character,  and  his  own  noble  knight-errantry 
for  right  and  truth  in  the  world.  One  and  all,  we  give  him  joy 
to-day.  This  is  his  Silver  Jubilee.  This  is  a  red-letter  day  in  a 
calendar  of  glory. 

Since,  then,  God  in  His  goodness  has  vouchsafed  to  you  to  see- 
this  day,  the  29th  of  June,  1890,  the  anniversary  of  your  entrance 
into  the  royal  ranks  of  the  soldiers  of  the  sanctuary,  we  extend  to- 
you  our  glad  congratulations,  and  give  testimony  to  the  joy  we  feel 
in  the  prolongation  of  your  priesthood.  We  are  not  ignorant  that 
you  have  little  regard  for  the  judgments  of  men,  for  you  know  the 
standard  of  the  world  is  not  the  measure  of  God.  And  yet  we  feel 
bound  to  give  emphatic  voice  to  the  pleasure,  the  gratification,  and 
the  benefit  derived  from  all  our  relations  with  you.  For  myself, 
what  can  I  say  ?  What,  but  that  I  owe  a  debt  of  gratitude  which  I 
can  never  cancel,  which  time  cannot  efface,  nor  treasures  repay.  Ta 
me,  sir,  with  whose  fortunes  you  have  been  so  longed  concerned,^ 
you  have  always  been  a  "  guide,  philosopher,  and  friend," — yea, 
more  than  a  friend:  a  father.  If  to-day  it  is  my  proud  privilege  ta 
stand  on  this  altar,  an  unworthy,  but  still  a  representative  of  Jesus 
Christ,  I  owe  it,  after  God,  to  you.  From  you  came  the  counsel,  iter 
inspiration,  the  direction.  I  wish,  then,  to  say  that  I  am  filled  with 
a  profound  sense  of  gratitude  and  thankfulness;  for,  whatever  my 
faults,  I  cannot  forget  a  favor.  "  Silver  and  gold  I  have  none,  but 
such  as  I  have,  I  give  to  thee."  The  tribute  of  my  poor  prayers, 
such  as  they  are,  shall  be  yours,  yours  in  the  still  twilight  of  the 
evening,  and  yours  at  the  dawning  of  the  day.  Take  them  with  a 
benison,  take  them  with  my  heartfelt  good  wishes,  take  them  with 
my  lasting  regard,  for  ''I  am  but  a  beggar  in  thanks." 

May  no  sorrow  distract  your  days,  and  no  grief  disturb  your 
nights.  May  the  pillow  of  peace  press  your  cheeks,  and  the  sun- 
shine of  God's  gladness  light  the  way  wherein  your  footsteps  lie. 
May  your  life  be  serene  as  a  summer  day,  and  in  the  end  as  peace- 
ful as  the  close.    To-day  you  tell  two  decades  and  a  half  of  the  beads 


617 

of  priestly  life;  may  God  grant  us  to  gather  when  you  count  a  fuU 
round  of  that  life-telling  Rosary.  I  have  only  to  wish  for  you  a 
long  and  happy  life — happy  in  its  quiet  flow  of  uninterrupted  en- 
joyment— happy  in  its  disclosures  of  the  providence  of  God  to  you — 
happy  in  preparing  for  an  eternal  Hfe  amid  the  sweet  songs  and 
fadeless  joys  of  Paradise. 


11. 

MORTAL  SIN. 

PREACHED   IN   ST.  PATRICK'S   CHURCH,    JERSEY   CITY,   N.  J. 

"We  shall  have  many  good  things,  if  we  fear  God  and  avoid 
evil." 

Man  was  created  for  God,  for  he  was  created  for  happiness,  and 
God  is  happiness.  And  so,  having  fashioned  man,  God  placed  him 
in  a  terrestrial  paradise,  where  was  found  everything  that  could 
gratify  the  senses  and  delight  the  soul,  and  whence,  after  a  brief  so- 
journ, he  should  be  translated  to  that  heavei^y  country  which  was 
to  be  his  home  and  inheritance  forever. 

But  as  felicity  in  the  other  world,  so  happiness  in  this  was  condi- 
tioned upon  his  fidelity  to  the  light  and  easy  law  which  God  had 
laid  upon  him  as  the  test  of  his  obedience  and  subjection.  Had  he 
been  faithful  and  loyal  in  his  allegiance  to  a  merciful  as  well  as  a 
generous  Master,  no  power  of  word-painting  could  possibly  depict 
the  bright  and  blissful  conditions  of  existence  under  which  both  he 
and  his  posterity  should  pass  the  probationary  period,  till  they 
should  go  hence  to  dwell  amid  serener  joys  and  brighter  beatitudes 
in  "  that  house  eternal  in  the  heavens,  that  home  not  made  by  human 
hands." 

Ah  !  what  delights  hath  the  heavenly  Father  prepared  for  the  chil- 
dren of  men.  How  Infinite  Wisdom  hath  exhausted  its  ingenuity, 
and  divine  benevolence  poured  out  its  copious  blessings  to  make 
human  creatures  happy  in  their  earthly  home  !  Why,  may  we  not 
ask,  why  was  that  hour  of  happiness  doomed  to  such  short  duration, 
why  so  transitory  and  so  brief  ?  What  accursed  fatality  was  that 
which  caused  the  slimy  serpent  to  trail  his  coils  over  the  golden 
fruit  of  that  paradise  of  old  ?    But  even  so  it  was. 


619 

"  Of  all  the  trees  which  axe  in  the  garden  of  paradise,"  said  the 
Lord  God  to  Adam,  *'thou  shalt  eat;  but  of  the  tree  of  the  knowl- 
edge of  good  and  evil  thou  shalt  not  eat,  for  in  what  day  soever 
thou  shalt  eat  thereof,  thou  shalt  die  the  death."  Such  was  the 
divine  commandment,  so  easy  of  fulfillment,  given  to  the  father  of 
our  race.  Seduced  by  the  specious  and  flattering  promises  of  the 
tempter,  man,  unhappy  man,  fell.  He  forsook  his  Maker's  law;  he 
contemned  His  commandments;  he  rebelled  against  His  ordinance, 
and  the  curse  of  calamity  and  disaster  came  upon  him  like  the  clouds 
of  everlasting  night.  "  Cursed  be  the  earth  in  thy  work,"  said  the  ire- 
ful God  to  His  unworthy  servant.  "  In  the  sweat  of  thy  brow  shalt 
thou  eat  thy  bread,  thou  and  thy  posterity  till  time  shall  be  no 
more."  Driven  forth,  exiled  and  degraded,  he  no  more  shall  enter 
those  gladsome  bowers;  no  more  shall  trace  those  dells  and  streams; 
no  more  shall  seek  those  grateful  shades  and  hear  those  plashing 
fountains  play,  for  the  flaming  sword,  flashing  from  the  angel's 
hand,  shall  bar  his  entrance  evermore;  but,  with  disaster  dogging 
his  footsteps,  with  care  and  calamity  on  his  brow,  he  shall  plod  his 
weary  way,  till,  borne  down  by  grief  and  affliction,  he  shall  silently 
sink  into  the  dust  whence  he  first  came.  "  Dust  thou  art  and  unto  dust 
shalt  thou  return."  Well  may  he  cry  in  the  words  of  Jeremias: 
"  Know  thou  and  see  what  an  evil  and  a  bitter  thing  it  is  for  thee  to 
have  abandoned  the  Lord  thy  God."  "By  one  man  sin  entered  into 
the  world,  and  by  sin  death." 

To  consider  the  cause  of  this  calamity  upon  our  common  race;  to 
investigate,  as  far  as  it  is  given  to  our  limited  inteUigence  to  do,  the 
nature  and  malice  of  that  which  entailed  upon  mankind  such  death- 
less woe,  shall  be  the  pui-pose  of  our  thoughts  this  night.  God  grant 
that  we  fully  understand  what  sin  is,  and  then  we  shall  never  com- 
mit it;  God  grant  that  we  may  appreciate  its  horror,  and  then  we 
shall  recoH  from  it  with  loathing. 

And  what  is  sin?  I  do  not  know;  you  do  not  know;  God  alone, 
who  can  comprehend  the  greatness  and  majesty  which  are  assailed 
by  sin,  can  tell  what  sin  is.  But  what  we  do  not  fully  understand, 
we  may  venture  to  describe. 

What  is  sin  ?     With  St.  Thomas,  we  may  define  it  to  be  an  act  of 
disorder,  or  the  violation  of  order.     And  what  is  order  ?     For 
"  Order  is  heaven's  first  law,  and  this  confest 
Some  are  and  must  be  greater  than  the  rest." 


620 

Order  is  the  disposition  of  things  according  to  their  right  relations. 
It  is  the  putting  things  in  their  proper  places,  and  the  holding  them 
by  fixed  and  inviolable  law  in  that  position  to  which  of  right  they 
belong. 

Now,  God  is  the  Author  and  first  cause  of  all  things.  He  sits 
eternally  on  His  sublime  throne,  happy  in  the  contemplation  of  His 
adorable  perfections,  of  which  no  man  can  deprive  Him.  He 
created  me  and  you,  and  every  living  and  moving  creature  upon  the 
face  of  the  earth;  He  gave  them  their  several  perfections,  set  them 
in  their  right  spheres,  in  their  proper  order,  and  said,  "  Thus  far 
shalt  thou  go  and  no  farther."  This  is  the  Creator's  will.  And  as 
all  creatures  flowed  out  from  Him  in  the  beginning,  so  their  present 
perfection  consists  in  uniformly  tending  towards  Him,  as  their  final 
happiness  will  be  in  being  absorbed  in  His  everlasting  glory.  Man's 
perfection,  therefore,  consists  in  the  harmony  of  his  action  and  the 
conformity  of  his  will  with  the  will  of  the  divine  Creator.  But 
when  man  opposes  his  will  to  the  will  of  Him  who  made  him;  when 
he  seeks  to  lift  himself  outside  that  sphere  to  which  God  has 
assigned  him,  and  break  the  bond  of  subordination  between  himself 
and  his  Creator,  he  creates,  as  far  as  in  him  lies,  chaos  and  con- 
fusion; he  commits  sin,  and  makes  a  breach  of  order,  for  sin  is  the 
gospel  of  disorder.  How  so?  Let  St.  Thomas  tell.  "Sin,"  he 
says,  "  is  the  aversion  of  the  will  from  God  and  the  conversion  of  the 
same  to  the  creature."  It  is  the  putting  of  the  creature  in  the  place 
of  God,  and  a  complete  subversion  of  the  order  which  God  has 
evolved  from  the  depths  of  His  divine  wisdom,  and  a  substitution 
therefor  of  the  wild  and  wayward  will  of  man. 

All  things  speak  the  praise  and  obey  the  voice  of  their  Creator. 
"  The  heavens  declare  the  glory  of  God,  and  the  firmament  an- 
nounces the  works  of  His  hands."  The  lordly  king  of  day  comes 
forth  in  regal  splendor  and  warms  the  heart  of  earth  with  his 
kindling  beams.  The  moon  shines  silently  by  her  reflected  light, 
and  the  radiant  stars  sparkle  with  undimmed  brilliancy  upon  the 
brow  of  night.  The  sea  slumbers  in  its  slimy  bed,  and  breaks  not 
the  barriers  set  for  it  by  God.  By  the  unerring  laws  of  gravitation 
the  great  globes  swing  and  turn  without  discordant  jar;  the  earth  is 
poised  on  her  foundations  and  the  wide  gates  of  the  universe  turn 
with  noiseless  motion  on  their  hinges  at  the  touch  of  God's  strong 


621 

finger — but  amid  this  wonderful  display  of  divine  order,  in  this 
song  of  universal  harmony,  one  discordant  voice,  one  sibilant  sound 
is  heard,  hissing  forth  defiance  against  the  Most  High  God,  and 
saying,  like  Lucifer  of  old — "I  will  not  serve,"  Thou  hast  lifted 
me  out  of  nothing;  Thou  hast  fashioned  me  with  Thine  own  hand; 
Thou  hast  gifted  me  with  the  light  of  intelligence  and  the  faculty  of 
freedom;  Thou  hast  made  me  Thine  own  son,  and  dost  wish  that  I 
should  call  Thee  Father;  but  I  renounce  my  true  allegiance;  I  will 
break  the  bonds  that  bind  me  to  Thee;  I  proclaim  my  independence 
of  Thee,  my  Creator  and  my  God;  I  will  not  bend  the  knee;  I  will 
not  yield  to  Thee  the  tribute  of  service  which  Thou  demandest,  but 
*'  I  will  exalt  my  throne  above  the  stars  of  God,  I  will  sit  on  the 
mountain  of  the  covenant  which  is  on  the  side  of  the  North,  and 
I  will  myself  be  like  unto  the  Most  High  God  !  "  "What  infamous 
audacity !   What  inconceivable  madness !    And  yet  this  is  mortal  sin  ! 

The  order  estabhshed  by  God  finds  its  expression  in  His  divine 
law.  As  sin  is  the  negation  of  order,  so  is  it  the  violation  of  law. 
St.  Augustine,  therefore,  rightly  defines  sin  to  be  any  thought,  word, 
or  deed  against  the  law  of  God.  Mortal  sin  is  any  grievous  and 
willful  transgression  of  the  same  will  of  God,  as  expressed  in  His 
divine  or  natural  law.  To  constitute  a  mortal  sin  the  iniemal  or 
the  external  act  must  be  grave  in  itself,  or,  at  least,  so  considered  by 
the  conscience,  and  the  act  must  be  performed  with  full  knowledge 
and  consent. 

Mortal  sin  derives  its  name  from  the  Latin,  Mors,  meaning  death, 
because  it  brings  death  to  the  soul  by  depriving  it  of  its  super- 
natural life,  which  is  the  grace  of  God;  and  when  unrepented  of,  it 
carries  to  the  soul  everlasting  damnation,  for  "  the  soul  that  sinneth 
shall  die  the  death,"  says  Ezechiel. 

Mortal  sin  is,  therefore,  a  deplorable  evil,  destructive  in  its  effects, 
and  dismal  in  its  consequences.  It  is  environed  by  all  the  gloomy 
surroundings  of  death,  for,  as  Augustine  says,  the  sinner  carries  a 
dead  soul  in  a  living  body. 

The  malice  of  mortal  sin  is  infinite  and  immeasurable.  It  is  a 
plain  principle  of  philosophy  that  the  gravity  of  an  offense  must  be 
measured  not  only  by  the  nature  of  the  injury  done,  but  also  by  the 
dignity  of  the  offended  and  the  insignificance  of  the  offender.  The 
malice  of  deadly  sin  is  consequently  bej^ond  the  range  of  finite  com- 


622 

prehension.  For  who  is  the  offended?  He  is  God — God  the 
sovereign  Arbiter  of  life  and  death,  and  the  Maker  of  heaven  and 
earth.  It  is  He  who  sitteth  upon  the  clouds,  whose  face  is  as  the 
sun,  whose  voice  is  as  the  thunder  and  the  roaring  of  many  waters, 
and  whose  dwelling-place  is  in  the  inaccessible  heights  of  glory.  It 
is  He  whose  greatness  is  incomparable,  whose  power  is  illimitable, 
whose  majesty  no  tongue  can  tell.  He  is  infinite  in  Himself,  infinite 
in  His  attributes,  for  He  knows  no  bounds.  He  has  no  limits,  for  He 
reacheth  by  the  stretch  of  His  omnipotent  arm  to  the  uttermost 
parts  of  the  universe,  and  disposeth  all  things  howsoever  He  will. 
All  things  came  out  from  Him  in  the  beginning,  and  when  the 
period  fixed  by  Him  shall  have  elapsed,  they  shall  likewise  end. 
Before  Him  shall  one  day  stand,  when  He  cometh  in  the  might  of 
His  power,  all  the  kings  and  nations  of  the  earth  to  receive  judg- 
ment according  to  their  deeds.  At  His  fiat  the  heavens  and  the 
earth  shall  be  changed  **  as  a  vesture,"  and  shall  disappear  from  the 
realms  of  existence,  but  He  shall  reign  forever,  omnipotent  with  His 
elect  in  glory,  and  his  kingdom  shall  everlastingly  endure.  And 
this  great  God  of  power  and  majesty  is  the  Being  offended  by 
the  rash  and  fgolhardy  sinner.  And  who  is  the  offender  ?  Who  is 
he  that  lifteth  his  hands  in  defiance  of  the  Lord  of  Hosts  ?  He  is 
man — man,  a  plaything  of  the  wind,  a  vapor  of  the  morning,  a 
shadow  on  the  dial  of  existence,  an  atom  of  dust,  a  worm  of  earth,  a 
puny,  pitiful  creature,  extracted  from  nothing,  returning  to  nothing 
— a  composite  of  vileness  and  dust  and  ashes,  for  "  dust  he  is  and 
unto  dust  he  shall  return."  O !  how  can  that  dependent,  insignificant 
creature  challenge  by  mortal  enmity  the  God  who  made  him  ?  How 
can  he  with  wanton  temerity  provoke  the  anger  of  the  Almighty  ? 
How  can  he  whose  life  hangs  by  a  hair,  whose  existence  is  as 
evanescent  as  smoke,  rise  up,  in  swelling  insolence,  to  insult  his 
Maker,  nay,  to  strike  with  the  javelin  of  sin  at  the  heai-t  of  Him  who 
can  crush  him  with  the  might  of  His  forefinger,  wither  him  with 
the  hot  breath  of  His  almighty  anger,  and  blot  him  out  forever. 
"  For  the  soul  of  the  wicked  shall  be  blasted  as  a  vine  when  its 
grapes  are  in  the  flower,  and  as  an  olive  tree  that  casteth  its  flower." 

Consider,  my  friends,  the  ingratitude  of  mortal  sin. 

There  is  one  place  into  whose  murky  darkness  no  ray  of  kindly 
gratitude  can  ever  enter,  and  that  place  is— hell.     When  we  close 


623 

our  hearts  to  those  feelings  and  sentiments  which  betoken  an  appre- 
ciative sense  of  favors  received,  we  Hken  ourselves,  in  some  degree, 
to  those  unhappy  souls  who  are  damned  for  their  ingratitude.  It 
has  been  truthfully  said  : 

"  Ingratitude  in  friend  or  foe,  in  father,  mother,  brother,  wife, 
Is  far  the  bitterest  drop  of  woe  that  mingles  in  the  cup  of  life." 

And  what  moral  turpitude,  what  callous  insensibility,  what  cor- 
roding canker,  must  have  eaten  its  wormy  way  into  the  soul  of  him 
in  whom  the  light  of  gratitude  no  longer  lingers  !  Who  would  not 
shun  that  man  as  a  pest  and  a  scorpion  in  society,  and  a  blot  upon 
humanity,  a  degradation  to  our  common  kind?  The  dumb  and 
driven  beast  is  not  incapable  of  showing  forth  his  gratitude  for  the 
kindnesses  he  may  receive.  The  very  dog  will  lick  the  hand  that 
bestows  upon  it  a  caress.  But  man,  who  is  the  crowning  work  of 
creation  and  the  masterpiece  of  the  Almighty's  handicraft;  man,  who 
has  an  intellect  to  know  and  a  heart  to  love  and  feel;  man,  who  has 
been  crowned  with  dignity  and  honor,  made  in  the  sweet  similitude 
of  his  Maker,  and  set  "  but  little  below  the  angels  " — he  alone  can 
debase  himself  to  that  degree  of  vileness  which  is  characteristic  of 
the  ingrate;  he  can  strangle  in  his  breast  those  impulses  of  his 
nature  and  stifle  those  feelings  which  are  by  God's  ovni  hand  en- 
twined around  the  very  tendrils  of  the  human  heart. 

"Man's  inhumanity  to  man  makes  countless  thousands  mourn,'* 
but  man's  ingratitude  to  God  makes  countless  angels  weep.  To  be 
unable  to  reciprocate  a  kindness;  to  cherish  no  affection  towards  a 
benefactor;  to  have  no  appreciation  of  benefits  received,  is,  indeed, 
the  mark  of  a  mean  and  despicable  soul,  conjoined  to  a  shallow 
understanding  and  a  hard  and  unfeeling  heart,  but,  after  all,  it  is 
only  what  may  be  called  a  negative  ingratitude.  But  when  to  this 
perverse  and  unnatural  disposition,  this  tendency  to  thanklessness  is 
added  the  foul  intent  to  insult  the  benefactor,  to  rob  him  of  his 
rights,  to  betray  his  friendship,  to  scorn  his  love  and  to  employ  the 
very  gifts  he  gave  as  instruments  to  wound  and  outrageously  insult 
him,  then,  indeed,  is  every  fine  feeling  of  sensibility  dead  and  every 
chaste  sentiment  of  honor  lost  in  him  who  will  not  stand  up  to  stigma- 
tize the  deed  as  diabolical  and  to  cover  the  guilty  perpetrator  with 
shame,  ignominy,  and  confusion.     Yet  such  is  the  ingratitude  of 


624 

which  the  sinner  is  guilty  towards  his  God;  for,  besides  his  thank- 
lessness  to  a  good  and  generous  giver,  he  employs  the  gifts  gratui- 
tously bestowed  upon  him  as  a  means  of  the  most  flagitious  insult 
that  a  perverted  mind  can  plan,  or  a  malignant  heart  can  execute. 
For  sin — mortal  sin — is  a  red-handed  rebellion  of  a  subject  against 
his  sovereign;  of  a  servant  against  his  master;  of  a  child  against  his 
father;  of  a  creature  against  his  God.  "Hearken,  O!  ye  heavens, 
and  give  ear,  O !  earth :  I  have  raised  up  children  and  they  have 
despised  me."  "  The  ox  knoweth  his  owner  and  the  ass  his  master's 
crib,  but  my  people  have  not  known  me  and  Israel  hath  not  under- 
stood." Ah  !  yes;  God  has  created  us  and  He  loves  us  as  the  apple 
of  His  eye,  for  creation  was  itself  an  act  of  love,  or,  as  Father  Faber 
has  it,  an  act  of  kindness  on  the  part  of  God.  He  conserves  and 
guards  us  as  His  own  children  every  hour  of  our  lives,  and  we  rest 
under  the  protecting  shadow  of  His  wings  both  by  day  and  night. 
Every  breath  of  ours  we  breathe  through  Him,  and  every  action  of 
our  bodies,  every  movement  of  our  minds  is  His  free  and  gracious 
gift.  In  the  loving  liberahty  of  His  ineffable  goodness  He  came 
down  from  His  throne  beyond  the  stars,  clothed  Himself  in  our  frail 
humanity,  that  He  might  rive  the  slave-chains  in  which  sin  had 
bound  us,  even  at  the  incalculable  cost  of  His  sufferings  and  awful 
crucifixion.  And  now  that  can  He  say,  as  Osee  hath  foretold :  "  Be- 
hold the  Lion  of  the  Fold  of  Judah  hath  conquered;  with  a  strong 
bite  He  hath  broken  the  iron  bars  of  the  gates  of  hell,  and  hath 
trampled  death  to  destruction";  He  likewise  says  for  our  encourage- 
ment: " In  my  Father's  house  are  many  mansions " ;  "I  go  to  pre- 
pare a  place  for  you";  "  Be  ye  faithful  unto  death,  and  to  you  shall 
be  given  the  crown  of  eternal  life."  And  thus,  as  the  culmination  of 
it  all,  does  He  promise  us  a  heavenly  kingdom,  where  we  shall  rest 
forever  in  the  realm  of  the  King  in  His  beauty,  imparadised  in  bliss 
forevermore. 

And  for  this  overwhelming  show  of  goodness  to  us  shall  we  re- 
turn Him  only  the  viper-sting  of  sin — we  whom  He  has  nourished 
at  His  own  breast  and  gathered  under  His  wing,  "  as  the  hen  gather- 
eth  the  chickens,"  and  the  milk  of  whose  loving-kindness  we  drink 
as  our  daily  nourishment  ?  Shall  we  make  this  bounteous  Bene- 
factor no  requital  other  than  that  of  hate,  contempt,  scorn,  outrage, 
insult,    and   defiance?     Oh!    "our   offence   is  rank;    it   smeUs    to 


625 

heaven.'*  What  gratitude  is  here  !  What  feeling  and  what  sensi- 
biHty  !  Oh  !  what  base  and  shameful  ingratitude  "  to  make  a  mock- 
ery of  Him  and  crucify  again  the  Son  of  God  !  "  "  Ah !  "  He  says, 
in  His  bitterness  of  soul, — "Ah!  if  Mine  enemy  hath  done  this; 
if  he  that  hated  Me  had  reviled  and  persecuted  Me,  I  might  per- 
chance have  borne  it;  but  you,  my  friend  and  my  familiar,  you 
have  sat  down  to  sup  at  Mine  own  table  and  so  often  eaten  sweet- 
meats of  Mine  own  dish — this  is,  indeed,  too  much;  this  is  more 
than  I  can  bear;  this  is  enough  to  break,  if  it  were  breakable,  the 
heart  of  God  Himself." 

Consider,  once  more,  mortal  sin  in  its  effects  and  consequences, 
which  will  manifest  at  once  its  malice  and  its  misery. 

Oh  !  the  fearful  remorse  of  conscience !  The  demon  of  remorse 
seizes  upon  the  unhappy  sinner,  and  the  voice  of  an  accusing  con- 
science is  ever  clamoring  in  the  chambers  of  his  soul.  He  is  like  the 
murderer,  when,  having  despatched  his  victim,  he  first  realizes  that 
the  foul  deed  is  done.  His  hag-ridden  fancy  conjures  up  a  horde 
of  weird  and  gruesome  phantoms  to  rack  and  torture  the  affrighted 
mind.  Henceforth  happiness  and  he  are  strangers;  his  peace  of 
soul  has  fled.  Every  echo  that  he  hears  puts  him  in  a  paroxysm  of 
alarm,  and  the  sound  of  every  footfall  reminds  him  that  the  Nemesis 
of  justice  is  hot  upon  his  track.  And  wherever  he  turns  his  eye,  his 
mad  and  frightened  brain  and  blurred  and  excited  vision  can  detect 
nothing  but  a  rope,  a  gallows,  and  a  felon's  doom.  It  is  not  far  dif- 
ferent with  any  other  sinner.  No  sooner  is  the  sin  committed  than 
conscience  cries  out  against  him,  and  as  he  cannot  stifle  its  accusing 
voice,  so  neither  can  he  elude  the  chastisements  which  divine  justice 
will  inflict  upon  him.  He  seeks,  all  in  vain,  to  smother  that  outcry- 
ing voice.  He  would  like  to  skulk  from  the  sight  of  God,  as  did 
Adam  among  the  trees  of  Paradise,  but  he  feels  how  futile  would  be 
the  attempt.  He  would  like  to  accept  the  Devil's  flattering  assur- 
ance that  he  will  not  be  found  out;  but  he  who  robbed  him  of  his 
virtue  cannot  steal  away  his  sense.  He  would  like  to  lull  his  troubled 
soul  into  a  sense  of  security,  but,  like  Banquo's  ghost,  his  conscience 
will  not  down.  His  mind  is  perplexed  and  harassed  by  fears  and 
alarms.  He  knows  he  stands  on  treacherous  ground,  which  may  at 
any  moment  yield  and  plunge  him  into  irremediable  sorrow,  into 
the  prison-house  of  hell,  for,  "  as  birds  are  taken  with  the  snare  and 
40 


fishes  taken  with  the  hook,  so  are  sinners  taken  in  the  evil  time."  Ah ! 
how  often  doth  the  demon  of  despair  seize  upon  him,  and  while  he 
laments  the  past,  he  is  incapable  of  resolution  for  the  future. 
"  Come  back,  O  vanished  years !  "  he  cries,  "  rich  with  the  dreams  I 
used  to  dream,  when  fancy  flutteried  free,  when  my  heart  was  as 
light  as  the  morning's  footfall,  come  back  to  me  again  !  Oh  !  bring 
back  the  bliss  and  joy,  the  hopes  and  passioned  aims  that  fired  my 
soul  with  the  pure  flames  of  youth  in  the  golden  years  now  gone, 
when  Hf e  was  new  and  fresh,  when  roses  crowned  my  pathway  and 
earth  seemed  half  divine.  Oh  !  I  have  seen  the  mighty  rivers  roll- 
ing joyously  along  through  plain  and  wold,  where  more  than  Al- 
pine ridges  raised  their  crested  columns  above  the  gleaming  snow, 
and  I  have  seen  the  winding  rivulets  coursing  through  the  flowery 
meads  and  vales,  all  tremulous  with  light,  with  laughter,  and  with 
song.  And  I  have  seen  the  merry  maidens  trip  jubilantly  by,  as 
they  bore  the  blushing  clusters  of  the  grapes  to  the  wine-press,  and 
I  saw  the  sun-gold  on  their  ringlets  and  the  lovelight  in  their  eyes. 
I  have  seen  the  sweet  smiles  of  nature,  and  I  rejoiced  in  the  varied 
melodies  of  her  voice;  but  changed  is  the  spirit  of  my  dream,  for  the 
sunlight  is  gone  from  my  heart,  and  the  angel  music  no  longer 
whispers  through  the  desolate  caverns  of  my  soul.  So  peace  to  the 
memories  of  the  past,  the  vault  in  which  they  lie  is  shut  forever - 
more,  and  the  sky  and  the  day-beams  no  longer  shine  upon  them. 
The  Eden-land  I  sought  is  vanished — vanished  with  the  bhss  it 
brought  in  seeking — and  now  I  shall  never  kneel  again  at  fancy's 
holy  shrine,  to  sing  the  songs  I  sang,  or  pray  the  prayers  I  prayed 
in  the  green,  glad  years  now  gone !  Peace  and  innocence  of  my 
childhood,  thou  art  gone;  divine  light  of  my  soul,  farewell.  *  Ah! 
who  will  grant  me  to  be  according  to  the  months  past,  according  to  the 
days,  in  which  God  kept  me  ?  When  His  lamp  shined  over  my 
head,  and  I  walked  by  His  light  in  darkness  ?  As  I  was  in  the  days 
of  my  youth,  when  God  dwelt  secretly  in  my  tabernacle  ? ' " 

Consider,  now,  the  loss  of  the  divine  grace  which  sin  brings 
upon  the  soul. 

The  bright  sun  is  beautiful,  but  it  is  not  without  its  spots;  the 
flowers  that  bloom  by  the  wayside  are  beautiful,  but  the  worm  oft 
lurks  within  the  bud;  the  blae  sky  that  bends  above  us  is  beautiful, 
but  clouds  and  darkness  often  rest  upon  it;  and  the  human  coun- 


627 

tenance  has  a  beauty  all  but  divine,  but  it  is  often  shaded  by  the 
lines  of  care  and  grief.  But  a  soul  glistening  with  the  splendor  of 
divine  grace  is  beautiful  beyond  anything  in  the  lovely  creation  of 
God.  There  is  nothing  under  heaven's  dome  comparable  in  beauty 
and  brilliancy  to  a  soul  clothed  with  the  garments  of  God's  holy 
grace.  Its  sheen  and  lustre  "  pale  the  ineffectual  fire  "  of  a  seraph's 
radiant  wing.  For  in  the  sublime  and  expressive  language  of  Sacred 
Writ,  a  soul  in  grace  is  "  the  spouse  of  Jesus  Christ,"  "  the  temple  of 
the  Holy  Ghost,"  and  "the  daughter  of  the  King."  "Thou  art  all 
fair,  O !  my  love,  and  there  is  no  spot  in  thee."  As  the  beams  of 
the  morning  sun  are  reflected  in  the  bosom  of  some  peUucid  lake,  so 
the  white  light  of  heaven  and  the  transcendent  loveliness  of  God  are 
mirrored  in  the  soul  that  is  adorned  with  the  effulgence  of  divine 
grace.  By  grace  we  are  become  the  sons  of  God,  servitors  in  His 
holy  sanctuary,  and  partakers  of  His  divine  nature.  By  grace  we 
share  in  the  communion  of  the  Saints,  and  by  analogy  are  like  unto 
those  blessed  spirits  who  stand  beside  the  throne,  all  crowned  with 
glory,  robed  w4th  immortality,  and  shining  like  the  sun  in  the  sight 
of  God.  By  grace  we  are  linked  with  chains  of  love  to  the  heavenly 
Bridegroom,  we  follow  the  Lamb  whithersoever  He  goeth,  and  by 
Him  our  names  are  written  in  the  book  of  life. 

But  oh  !  what  havoc  and  desolation  is  wrought  upon  the  soul  by 
the  scathing  scourge  of  sin.  All  that  beauty  becomes  blighted; 
eveiy  vestige  of  that  supernal  loveliness  effaced.  The  favorite  child 
of  God  is  disinherited,  and,  like  exiled  Hagar,  is  driven  forth  from 
the  bosom  of  her  spouse  to  dwell  in  a  wilderness  of  want  and  deso- 
lation. The  golden  links  of  love  are  rudely  snapped  asunder;  the 
friendship  of  God  is  forfeited;  the  beauty  of  grace  is  gone;  the 
splendor  of  good  deeds  is  dimmed,  their  merit  wiped  away,  and  the 
sinner's  name,  by  angel's  tears,  is  blotted  from  the  Book  of  Life,  for 
"aU  the  justices  which  he  has  done  shall  be  no  more  remembered." 
To  that  benighted  soul  the  pathetic  words  of  Jeremias  are  sadly 
apposite  :  "  How  hath  the  Lord  covered  with  obscurity  the  daughter 
of  Sion  in  His  wrath !  How  hath  He  cast  down  from  heaven  to  the 
earth  the  glorious  one  of  Israel,  and  hath  not  remembered  His  foot- 
stool in  the  day  of  His  anger.  The  Lord  hath  cast  down  headlong, 
and  hath  not  spared,  all  that  was  beautiful  in  the  house  of  Jacob." 

The  punishments  and  visible  chastisements  inflicted,  both  on  in- 


628 

dividuals  and  on  nations,  at  every  period  of  the  world's  history,  orr 
account  of  sin,  are  likewise  irrefragable  proof  of  its  essential  malice, 
when  mortal,  and  of  the  infinite  hatred  which  God  bears  towards, 
actions  which  grievously  outrage  His  sovereign  majesty.  I  shall  not 
make  extended  reference  to  them,  for  to  do  so  might  oppress  your 
minds  and  harrow  your  feelings  excessively.  To  the  most  con- 
spicuous instances  of  God's  exemplary  punishment  upon  offenders 
against  His  justice,  I  allude  with  sufficient  brevity. 

The  angels  committed  a  single  sin  of  thought,  and  without  an 
instant's  warning  those  bright  princes  were  cast  down  from  their 
starry  thrones  in  the  firmament  of  God  into  the  noisome  dungeon 
which  was  prepared  in  punishment  of  their  pride.  Shining  with  the 
brilliancy  of  the  sun,  they  became  wanderers  on  the  shores  of  ever- 
lasting night,  and  from  being  messengers  of  light,  they  became 
fiends  of  darkness.  Because  they  lifted  themselves  on  high  they 
were  made  to  bite  the  dust;  and  because  they  were  swollen  and. 
puffed  up  with  their  empty  pride,  they  fell  like  lightning  from  heaven 
into  the  fathomless  depths  of  the  fiery  pit.  And  there  shall  they 
abide.  And  all  the  tears  of  fire  that  they  shall  shed  shall  never  call 
forth  one  sigh  of  compassion  from  the  heart  of  a  merciful  God;  and 
all  their  pleadings  and  all  their  groanings  shall  never  move  their 
Maker  to  forgiveness,  nor  appease  the  wrath  of  the  implacable 
Avenger.  For,  sitting  upon  His  throne  of  eternal  justice  the  Omnip- 
otent Vindicator  shall,  through  all  eternity,  hurl  down  upon  them 
the  hot  shafts  of  His  avenging  ire;  His  angry  breath 'shall  burn 
them  forevermore;  that  fire  shall  never  lose  its  sting;  their  worm 
shall  never  die;  those  flames  shall  not  be  put  out,  for  "the  smoke 
of  the  torments  of  the  damned  shall  ascend  forever  and  forever  "  ! 

Adam  and  Eve  committed  one  sin  of  disobedience,  and  the  gates  of 
heaven  were  so  closed  against  them  that  they  could  be  opened  only 
by  the  death  of  the  Son  of  God.  Cain  slew  his  brother  Abel,  and  he 
was  branded  with  the  black  mark  of  infamy  and  sent  forth  a 
wanderer  and  fugitive  upon  the  earth,  till  his  wretched  life  should 
spend  its  force  and  he  become  "  a  useless  piece  of  porphyry  to  be 
cast  into  the  waste-dumps  of  hell."  Sodom  and  Gomorrah  had 
crimsoned  their  career  with  lecherous  crime,  and  God  opened  the 
furnaces  of  heaven  and  rained  down  fire  and  brimstone  on  those 
pestilential  cities  of  the  plain,  leaving  only  a  sulphurous  pool  to 


629 

mark  His  vengeance  to  the  end  of  time.  When  the  crimes  of  the 
-children  of  men  had  grown  intolerable  in  the  divine  sight,  it  re- 
pented God  that  He  had  made  man,  and  sundering  the  flood-gates 
of  the  heavenly  deep.  He  for  forty  days  and  forty  nights  poured 
down  tempestuous  torrents  upon  the  earth,  till  every  creature,  save 
the  few  within  the  ark,  had  found  a  grave  in  the  wide  waste  of 
waters. 

Oh !  how  terrible  are  Thy  judgments,  Lord  God  of  Hosts.  Verily, 
"  Thou  dost  judge  justice  itself  "  and  dost  "  search  Jerusalem  with 
lamps."  How  great  is  Thy  hatred  of  sin  when  Thou  imposest  such 
calamitous  chastisements  upon  it;  how  fearful  the  offense  which 
thus  rouses  to  anger  a  patient  and  long-suffering  God.  Spare  us, 
O  good  Lord  I  Cut  us  not  off  in  the  midst  of  our  days  and  grant 
us  yet  a  little  time  that  we  repent  and  serve  Thee,  as  we  doth  de- 
sire and  as  Thou  deservedst.  Oh!  strike  us  not  down  while  yet  the 
weight  of  sin  is  on  our  souls,  and  blast  us  not  "like  the  vine  in 
flower,"  lest  like  unfruitful  and  unprofitable  servants  we  descend  in 
sorrow  into  the  darksome  house  of  hell. 

Oh !  the  misery  of  sin.  Oh  !  the  frightful  curse  of  sin.  Oh !  the 
pain  unutterable  and  the  unspeakable  woe  of  sin.  To  miss  our 
God-appointed  destiny;  to  baffle  the  purpose  of  creation  and  frus- 
trate, as  in  us  lies,  the  beneficent  designs  of  God.  Never  to  set  foot 
upon  those  shining  shores;  never  to  pass  the  pearly  gates  of  Para- 
dise, nor  to  behold  the  beauties  of  the  inner  tabernacle  revealed; 
never  to  taste  the  fullness  of  God's  house ;  never  to  driuk  of  the 
fountain  of  felicity;  never  to  enter  our  own  Father's  dwelUng,  nor 
be  robed  with  His  own  royalty;  never  to  have  Him  clasp  us  in  His 
fond  embrace ;  never  to  feel  His  kiss  upon  the  cheek,  to  have  Him 
bind  up  the  bruised  heart  and  wipe  away  the  tear  of  sorrow  from 
the  eye;  never  to  see,  to  possess,  to  enjoy  our  Creator,  our  Re- 
deemed, and  our  God;  never,  nevermore;  but  to  be  thnist  out  into 
that  exterior  and  inextinguishable  darkness;  to  be  cast  down  from 
those  celestial  heights;  to  be  exiled  forever  from  the  face  of  Jesus 
who  shed  His  blood  for  our  redemption,  and  condemned  to  that 
abyss  of  pain  and  sorrow  and  distress,  to  those  chambers  of  the 
damned  "  where  no  order  but  everlasting  horror  dwelleth,"  to  the 
house  of  deep,  dark,  irremediable  misery  and  despaii' — oh  !  existence 
;appalling !  oh  !  night  that  has  no  day  !  oh !  death  that  knows  no  life  I 


630 

Such  is  the  penalty  of  mortal  sin.  Need  I  say  more  ?  Must  I  still 
exhort  you  to  do  penance,  to  seek  the  tribunal  of  pardon  and  for- 
giveness, ere  it  be  too  late  and  the  door  of  God's  mercy  be  slammed 
against  your  face  forever  ?  Is  any  one  to-night  groaning  under  the 
burden  of  an  accusing  conscience,  or  in  a  state  of  sin,  let  me  implore 
him  to  prostrate  himself  at  Jesus'  feet  and  sue  for  clemency  and 
grace.  Let  him  cry  with  the  contriteness  of  the  penitent  Psalmist : 
"  Have  mercy  on  me,  O  God,  according  to  Thy  great  mercy,  and  ac- 
cording to  the  multitude  of  Thy  tender  mercies  blot  out  my  in- 
iquities. Wash  me  yet  more  from  my  iniquity  and  cleanse  me  from 
my  sin.  Create  in  me  a  new  heart,  O  God,  and  renew  a  right  spirit 
within  my  bowels.  Oh  !  cast  me  not  off  from  Thy  face,  and  Thy 
holy  countenance  take  not  away  from  me." 

Wherefore  rouse  ye,  my  brethren,  and  "  ye  that  sleep  rise  from: 
the  dead  and  Christ  will  enlighten  you."  Perhaps  this  is  the  only 
season  of  grace  which  God  will  ever  give,  and  if  you  embrace 
it  not  He  will  let  you  alone  as  "  chained  to  your  idols"  and  "will 
laugh  at  your  destruction."  Be  not  deceived;  God  is  not  mocked. 
He  endureth  for  a  little  while,  and  when  the  cup  of  your  crime  is 
filled,  by  one  swift  and  decisive  stroke  He  cuts  you  off  forever.  By 
the  love  of  the  living  Jesus  and  the  love  of  your  own  soul,  rise 
quickly,  shake  off  the  habits  of  sin  and  be  converted  to  the  Lord 
your  God— for,  as  He  is  the  God  of  the  living,  so  doth  He  swear 
that  He  wills  not  the  death  of  the  sinner,  but  rather  that  he  be  con- 
verted and  live. 

My  brethren,  another  Lent  is  on  the  wane;  another,  and  it  may  be 
the  last  that  we  shall  ever  see.  Time  is  on  the  wing,  and  though  the 
days  are  growing  long,  they  stop  not  in  their  flight;  and  who  shall 
say  how  soon  the  day-dawn  may  greet  our  gaze  for  the  last,  last 
time  on  earth?  "We  spend  our  years  like  a  tale  that  is  told,"  and 
like  "  a  swift  post  we  flee  away,"  or  "  like  thread  that  is  cut  by  the 
weaver's  shuttle,"  or  "like  grass  that  falls  before  the  mower's 
scythe,"  we  are  cut  off  in  our  course,  and  "know  our  place  no 
more."  Oh!  then  be  wise,  with  the  wisdom  which  maketh  wise 
unto  salvation.  Now  is  the  time  for  you  "to  rise  from  sleep,"  to 
"  cast  off  the  old  man  Adam  and  put  on  the  new  man,  Jesus  Christ." 
Now  is  the  time  to  repent  you  of  the  misdeeds  of  the  past,  to  divest 
yourselves  of  the  garments  of  sin  and  come  forth  clothed  in  the 


631 

livery  and  renewed  in  the  spirit  of  your  Saviour,  Jesus.  'Tis  He 
that  bids  you  rise  from  the  grave  of  sin,  even  as  He  called  Lazarus 
from  the  tomb.  "He  standeth  for  your  judgment  now,  as  you  shall 
stand  for  His,"  Do  you  not  know  those  tender  and  forgiving  ac- 
cents which  calleth  you  to  come  ?  If  to-night  "  you  hear  that  voice, 
harden  not  your  hearts,"  but  rise  betimes  and  come  quickly  to  the 
tribunal  of  repentance,  ere  it  be  too  late  and  the  door  of  God's 
mercy  be  slammed  against  your  face  forever.  "  There  is  more  joy 
before  the  angels  of  God  in  heaven  upon  one  sinner  doing  penance 
than  upon  ninety-nine  just  who  need  not  penance." 


III. 

THE  PRIESTHOOD.* 

SILVER    JUBILEE    OF  REV.    G,   A.   VASSALLO. 

All  power  is  from  God.  He  is  the  author  and  first  cause  of  all 
things.  He  spake  and  they  were  made;  He  commanded  and  they 
were  created.  Eiding  upon  the  wings  of  the  whirlwind  He  spake 
to  His  servant  Job  :  "  Where  wast  thou  when  I  laid  the  foundations 
of  the  earth;  when  the  morning  stars  praised  Me  together  and  the 
sons  of  God  made  joyful  melody  ?  Who  shut  up  the  sea  within 
bounds  when  it  broke  forth  as  issuing  from  the  womb;  when  I  made 
the  cloud  the  garment  thereof  and  wrapt  it  in  mists  as  in  swaddling 
bands  ?  Who  gave  a  course  to  violent  showers  and  a  way  to  noisy 
thunder,  that  it  might  fill  the  desert  and  desolate  places  and  bring 
forth  the  green  grass  ?  Who  is  the  father  of  rain  and  who  begot 
the  little  drops  of  dew  ?  Out  of  whose  womb  came  the  ice,  and  the 
frost  of  heaven,  who  hath  gendered  it  ?  Who  can  declare  the  order 
of  the  heavens,  and  the  harmony  of  heaven  who  can  make  to  sleep  ? 
Who  provideth  food  for  the  raven  when  its  little  ones  cry  to  God, 
^  wandering  about  because  they  have  no  meat  ?  It  is  I,  the  Jehovah, 
the  Almighty,  the  Most  High.  I  am  who  am,  and  by  Me  are  all 
things  that  are.  I  am  the  Creator,  the  Conserver,  the  Governor,  and 
the  Provider  of  all." 

"The  Almighty  stood,"  says  Habacuc,  "and  measured  the  earth; 
He  looked  and  dissolved  the  nations,  for  power  and  strength  are  in 
His  hands.  He  touched  the  trembling  hills  and  they  were  instantly 
wrapt  in  smoke;  the  ancient  mountains  burst  in  pieces;  the  rocks 
melted  away  like  wax,  and  the  pillars  of  the  heavens  were  forced  from 
their  foundations.     For  the  ways  of  the  Lord  are  in  the  tempest 

*  From  the  Summit  (N.  J.)  Record. 


633 

and  whirlwind,  and  clouds  are  the  dust  of  His  feet.  The  hills 
and  the  lonesome  mountains  shake  under  the  journeys  of  His 
eternity;  the  flower  of  Lebanon  fades  away;  the  beauty  of  Basan 
and  Carmel  perish;  the  earth,  the  world,  and  all  that  dwell  therein 
sink  down  in  the  presence  of  the  Lord  of  Hosts,  in  the  presence  of 
the  God  of  Jacob." 

How  sublime  is  the  language  of  the  inspired  writer,  and  how  ex- 
alted the  idea  it  conveys  of  the  omnipotent  power  of  God. 

But  the  power  of  Christ  is  the  power  of  God,  for  Christ  is  God; 
His  works  are  the  works  of  God,  and  His  life  on  earth  was  the  life 
of  God.  "  In  the  beginning  was  the  Word,  and  the  Word  was  with 
God,  and  the  Word  was  God."  "  I  and  the  Father  are  one,"  for  I, 
like  the  Father,  was  "  set  up  from  eternity  and  of  old  before  the 
world  was  made."  All  the  actions  and  utterances  of  Christ  evince 
the  same  divine,  God-given  power.  "  He  thought  it  no  robbery  to 
be  Himself  equal  to  God,"  for  although  the  uncreated  Word  which 
was  in  the  beginning  with  God,  and  was  God,  divested  Himself  of 
all  the  marks  of  His  divinity  and  took  the  form  of  a  servant.  He 
still  did  not  abdicate  that  Godhead  which  He,  as  "  the  splendor  of 
His  Father's  glory  and  the  figure  of  His  substance,"  necessarily  had 
before  all  ages.  "  There  are  three  who  give  testimony  in  heaven," 
says  John,  "  the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  these 
three  are  one."  "  We  know,"  he  says  again,  "  that  the  Son  of  God 
is  come  and  this  is  the  true  God  and  eternal  life."  This,  then,  is 
He  of  whom  it  is  written  in  the  head  of  the  book.  Behold  I  come. 
This  is  He  in  whose  person  all  the  Messianic  prophecies  were  palpa- 
bly verified;  whose  birth  was  announced  by  the  angels'  song  of 
glory  to  the  shepherds  on  the  hillsides;  whose  advent,  though  ob- 
scure and  lowly,  brought  the  kings  of  the  earth  to  adore  Him;  at 
whose  baptism  the  heavens  were  parted,  and  the  Holy  Ghost  de- 
scended upon  Him  in  dove-like  form,  while  from  the  radiant  clouds 
the  eternal  Father  declares  Him  to  be  His  beloved  Son  in  whom  He 
is  well  pleased.  This  is  He  who  was  transfigured  at  Tabor,  when  His 
face  did  shine  as  the  sun  and  His  garments  became  white  as  snow, 
and  when  the  Father  again  proclaimed  Him  to  be  His  Son,  and  com- 
manded all  to  hear  Him.  This  is  He  who,  though  He  expired  in  the 
gloom  and  shame  of  Calvary,  yet  gave  forth  the  most  shining  tokens 
of  divinity  even  in  the  moment  of  His  divine  dereliction,  for  the  sun 


634 

withdrew  his  customary  light  at  noonday,  the  quivering  earth  was 
wrapped  in  darkness,  the  rocks  split  asunder,  the  sheeted  dead 
came  forth,  and  the  Centurion  and  the  burly  soldiers  cried  aloud, 
overwhelmed  by  nature's  groaning  testimonies,  ''  He  was  indeed  the 
Son  of  God."  This  is  He  who  called  Himself  the  Son  of  God;  who 
solemnly  asseverated  that  He  was  the  uncreated  and  self-existing 
Deity  when  to  the  doctors  He  declared  :  Before  Abraham  was  I  am. 
This  is  He  whose  sanctity  of  life,  whose  humility  of  demeanor, 
whose  gentleness  of  manners,  whose  benevolence  of  disposition  and 
tenderness  of  heart  excited  the  envy  of  the  proud  and  high-born, 
but  touched  the  deepest  chords  of  sympathy  in  the  hearts  of  the 
poor,  the  outcast,  and  the  forsaken.  This  is  He  who  went  about  as 
the  healer  and  consoler  of  the  sin-sick  multitude,  curing  the  blind- 
ness, the  weakness,  and  the  leprosy  of  both  body  and  soul.  The  un- 
clean spirits  confessed  His  power;  the  winds  and  the  sea  obeyed 
Him;  the  dead  came  forth  from  the  tomb  at  His  command,  and  He 
it  is  to  whom  everything  is  subject  that  exists  in  heaven,  on  earth, 
or  in  heU;  before  whom  all  the  tribes  of  the  earth  shall  stand,  for 
He  "  will  come,"  as  St.  John  describes  Him,  "  in  the  clouds  of 
heaven  with  great  power  and  majesty,  and  every  eye  shall  see  Him," 
and  all  shall  bow  down  and  adore  Him  as  the  immortal  King  of 
ages,  the  sovereign  Lord  of  men  and  angels,  the  supreme  Judge  of 
every  living  creature.  We  can  study  and  adore  His  glorious  at- 
tributes; we  can  wonder  and  bend  before  His  all-compelling 
presence.  We  can  feel  the  touch  of  His  blessed  nature,  the  glow  of 
His  ineffable  light.  His  peace  goeth  before  us  to  calm  our  troubled 
spmts,  and  though  His  visible  presence  was  withdrawn  on  Olivet, 
He  still  rules  and  guides  us  in  those  whom  He  appointed  to  per- 
petuate the  union  between  God  and  man. 

Now,  the  power  of  the  priest  is  the  power  of  Christ,  for  Christ  is 
the  one  great  High-Priest,  and  all  priests  soever  who  have  succeeded 
Him,  are  priests  inasmuch  as  they  have  a  participation  in  His  eter- 
nal priesthood.  The  priest  is  a  second  Christ  because  the  power  of 
Christ  is  in  his  hands;  the  law  of  Christ  upon  his  lips;  the  seal  of 
Christ  upon  his  forehead.  He  has  the  primacy  of  Abel,  the  patri- 
archate of  Noah,  the  order  of  Melchizedek,  the  dignity  of  Aaron,  the 
authority  of  Moses,  the  power  of  Peter,  and  the  unction  of  Christ. 
"  All  power  is  given  to  Me  in  heaven  and  on  earth,"  says  the  Lord 


635 

Jesus  Christ  to  His  Apostles.  "  As  the  Father  hath  sent  Me,  I  also 
send  you."  My  power  I  give  to  you,  my  authority  I  transmit  to 
you,  unreservedly  and  completely,  for  the  fulfillment  and  perpetua- 
tion of  that  eternal  priesthood,  the  offering  of  that  sacrifice  to  My 
eternal  Father,  which  was  conceived  ere  time  began  to  flow,  accom- 
plished in  My  mission  upon  earth,  and  wiU  be  continued  before  My 
Father's  throne  in  heaven,  through  never-ending  ages. 

As  the  heavens  are  above  the  earth,  so  does  the  power  of  the 
priesthood  transcend  every  other  phase  of  power  which  may  be  wit- 
nessed in  this  world.  The  prophet  of  old  raised  his  hand  and  the 
fire  came  down  from  heaven  for  the  consumption  of  the  holocaust. 
The  priest  of  the  New  Law  pronounces  but  the  words,  This  is  My 
Body,  and  lo !  the  heavens  bend  above  us,  legions  of  angels  hover 
nigh,  and  the  great  God  of  power  and  majesty  and  glory  comes 
down  from  His  celestial  throne  of  splendor  to  take  up  His  abode  in 
the  silent  chambers  of  the  tabernacle  of  the  altar.  Think  of  it,  my 
friends !  In  a  few  moments  the  old  scene  will  be  re-enacted  here,  in 
your  very  presence,  for  your  individual  account.  Those  priestly 
hands,  which,  for  the  past  twenty-five  years,  have  offered  up  the 
clean  oblation  to  the  Lamb  who  was  slain  from  the  foundation  of 
the  world,  will  upon  this  grace-bringing  day  offer  it  once  more,  and 
Jesus  Christ,  the  Judge  of  the  living  and  the  dead,  wiU  descend 
among  us  here,  the  Eternal  wiU  be  swayed  by  the  temporal,  the  In- 
finite by  the  finite,  God  by  man. 

The  power  of  creation  is  incommunicable,  since  to  make  something 
be  from  nothing,  requires  an  exertion  of  omnipotence,  which  belongs 
to  God  alone.  But  here  is  a  power,  which,  in  the  order  of  grace,  is 
even  greater.  In  virtue  of  this  stupendous  dignity,  St.  Chrj^sostom 
cries  out:  "Priests  possess  a  power  which  God  has  not  deigned  to 
grant  even  to  the  angels  or  the  archangels."  And  the  author  of 
the  "  Imitation  "  declares  that  ''  priests  duly  ordained  in  the  Church 
have  the  power  of  celebrating  and  consecrating  the  body  of  Christ,'* 
for  "  as  the  ambassadors  of  Christ,  they  act  in  the  name  of  Christ, 
by  the  power  and  authority  of  Christ,  Christ  Himself  being  the 
principal  Actor  and  invisible  "Worker."  Take,  my  brethren,  the 
wings  of  fancy;  ascend  into  the  incandescent  of  heaven  that  shines 
from  out  the  blazing  throne  of  God.  Behold  the  Lord  of  Life  upon 
His  sublime  and  elevated  throne,  stretching  out  His  hand  with  om- 


636 

nipotent  sway  over  all  the  boundless  possibilities  of  being.  Survey 
the  celestial  choirs  and  the  legions  of  spotless  spirits  who  execute 
His  bidding,  and  carry  His  behests  to  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  uni- 
verse. See  the  dazzling  Cherubim,  the  shining  Seraphim,  the  Angels, 
Archangels,  Powers,  Thrones,  and  Dominations,  all  robed  with  glory, 
crowned  with  immortality,  and  shining  like  the  sun  in  the  sight  cf 
God.  No  one  of  those  seraphic  spirits,  who  with  awestruck  adora- 
tion fall  down  before  the  throne,  and  in  the  ardor  of  unutterable 
love,  cry  out  incessantly,  Holy !  Holy !  Holy !  possesses  a  power 
like  unto  that  of  the  priest  over  the  body  and  blood  of  Jesus  Christ. 

"  The  angels  He  maketh  spirits  and  His  ministers  a  flame  of  fire." 
They  dwell  forever  in  the  divine  presence,  and  like  "  flames  of  fire  " 
they  burn  with  love  for  their  Creator,  and  are  absorbed  in  the  con- 
templation of  His  adorable  perfections.  But  to  them  it  is  not  given 
to  exercise  a  power  over  God  Himself.  The  jurisdiction  of  the 
priest  lies  directly  over  the  body  and  blood  of  Jesus  Christ,  which, 
by  the  sacerdotal  fiat,  are  reproduced  upon  the  altar  as  often  as  the 
priests  pronounce  the  words  of  consecration  in  the  Mass.  In  this 
sense  the  priest  has  been  called  the  creator  of  the  Creator,  since  by 
the  exercise  of  his  sacred  functions  he  changes  the  bread  and  wine 
into  the  body  and  blood  of  our  divine  Lord.  This  change  is  not 
natural,  but  divine;  "not  creative,"  in  a  strict  sense,  as  Card.  Man- 
ning says,  "but  of  omnipotence."  It  is  according  to  nature  that 
each  substance  be  distinguished  by  its  own  qualities  or  accidents, 
which  inhere  in  the  substance  as  in  their  supportive  principle,  and 
therefore  live  or  perish  with  it.  But  in  the  eucharistic  change,  the 
accidents  of  bread  and  wine  remain  after  these  substances  have  been 
transubstantiated  into  the  body  and  blood  of  Jesus  Christ.  This  al- 
teration is,  consequently,  above  aU  the  powers  of  nature,  and,  hence, 
a  work  of  omnipotence. 

When  Joshua  commanded  the  sun  to  stand  still  till  victory  rested 
on  his  banners,  God  obeyed  the  voice  of  man  in  respect  of  the 
things  of  His  creation;  but  when  by  the  omnific  words,  This  is  My 
Body,  the  priest  summons  the  Godhead  from  the  heavens,  God  obeys 
the  authority  of  man  over  His  own  person.  And  this  not  once,  but 
daily.  The  Blessed  Virgin  Mary,  when  the  power  of  the  Most  High 
overshadowed  her,  gave  a  God-man  to  the  world,  but  gave  Him  once 
for  all;  but  the  priest  reincarnates  the  same  God  each  time  he  per- 


637 

forms  the  act  of  consecration,  for  the  benefit  of  the  individual 
soul. 

How  transcendently  sublime  is  that  act  of  consecration  by  which 
*•  the  ministers  of  Christ  and  the  dispensers  of  the  mysteries  of  God  " 
are  empowered  to  effectuate  what  neither  the  saints  of  old,  nor  the 
angels  of  heaven,'  nor  the  mother  of  God,  but  Omnipotence  alone 
can  do  .through  the  channels  God  has  chosen  !  What  mind  does  not 
feel  its  pitiful  incompetence  to  understand  the  bestowal  of  such  a 
tremendous  dignity  upon  unworthy  man?  What  intellect  is  not 
staggered  at  the  bare  attempt  to  grasp  the  conception  of  this  \'ica- 
rious  exercise  of  the  attributes  of  divinity,  of  the  perfections  of 
God?  To  call  down  the  eternal  God  from  His  throne  of  glory;  to 
make  omnipotence  subservient  to  the  wants  of  weakness  and  impo- 
tence; to  clothe  the  King  of  Ages  and  the  Lord  of  Light  in  the 
"weak  and  needy  elements"  of  bread  and  wine;  to  enclose  immen- 
sity within  the  confines  of  an  earthly  tabernacle,  nay,  within  the  lim- 
ited compass  of  the  consecrated  host;  to  lay  hold  of,  I  may  so  speak, 
infinite  sanctity  and  truth;  to  touch,  to  taste,  to  multiply  and  dis- 
tribute to  the  sin-sore  sons  of  men  the  flesh  and  blood,  the  soul,  the 
life,  the  being  of  Jesus  Christ,  the  eternal  Son  of  God;  to  be  the 
keeper,  the  custodian,  nay,  the  friend,  the  familiar  and  companion 
of  the  living  Christ  Himself — this  is  expressibly  more  than  the  lofti- 
est intellect,  unenlightened  by  the  revealed  word  of  God,  could  ever 
have  conceived.  But  eternal  Truth  has  spoken,  and  we  believe  and 
adore.  "  This  is  My  body."  "This  is  My  blood."  "This  do  in 
commemoration  of  Me." 

O !  my  God,  "  what  is  man  that  Thou  shouldst  honor  him,  or  the 
son  of  man  that  Thou  shouldst  dignify  him  ?  "  Thou  who  dwellest 
in  the  highest  heavens,  in  regions  of  inaccessible  Ught;  who  makest 
the  clouds  Thy  chariot  and  walkest  upon  the  wings  of  the  wind;  who 
art  omnipotent,  eternal,  omniscient,  and  dost  reach  from  everlasting 
unto  everlasting — Thou  leavest  the  throne  of  Thy  supernal  glory  and 
comest  out  of  those  celestial  depths  which  shine  with  the  effulgence 
of  Thy  almighty  power;  Thou  passest  over  an  immense  interval,  an 
infinite  abyss,  and  dost  descend  upon  this  sinful  earth,  and  all  to 
reach  my  heart; — my  heart  so  cold  and  insensible  of  Thy  goodness; 
my  heart  full  of  foibles  and  folUes,  of  pride  and  vanity,  of  vice  and 
misery  and  sin,  "  for  behold  I  was  conceived  in  sin,  and  in  iniquity 
did  my  mother  conceive  me." 


638  ^ 

To  the  power  of  consecration  is  annexed  the  power  of  absolution 
in  completing  the  fullness  of  the  priesthood.  The  same  divine  Sav- 
iour, who  enjoined  upon  His  Apostles  the  august  function  of  sacri- 
fice, three  days  later  breathed  upon  them  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  com- 
missioned them  to  bind  or  loose  the  sins  of  men  by  the  exercise  of 
His  own  power  and  authority.  Thus,  indeed.  He  made  them  "fish- 
ers of  men  "  and  "  ploughers  "  and  "  sowers  "  and  "  reapers  "  to  go 
forth  into  the  wide  field  of  God's  kingdom  to  secure  the  great  har- 
vest of  human  souls. 

What  a  wonderful  function  it  is,  my  friends,  to  exercise  the  power 
of  that  Divine  Physician,  who  came,  not  to  call  the  righteous,  but  to 
seek  and  save  the  lost,  and  to  say,  as  Jesus  did  to  Magdalen,  "  Go 
in  peace,  thy  sins  are  forgiven  " !  "  Which  is  easier  to  say.  Arise, 
take  up  thy  bed  and  walk,  or  to  say,  thy  sins  are  forgiven  thee  ?  " 
Above  the  gift  of  miracles,  beyond  the  power  of  healing  the  infirm- 
ities of  the  body,  is  that  sublime  office  which  heals  the  malady  of 
the  soul;  which  cures  the  blindness  and  leprosy  of  sin;  which  takes 
the  tarnished  soul  of  him  who  has  darkened  the  heavens  with  the 
smoke  of  his  uncounted  crimes — crimes  of  lust,  impiety,  and  sensu- 
ality— those  charnel-houses  in  which  we  sink — and  makes  it  pure  as 
a  chalice  of  innocence,  immaculate  as  the  dawn,  fragrant  as  the  flow- 
ers of  paradise,  and  sweet  as  the  incense-laden  air  of  heaven. 

What  is  the  mission  of  the  priest  ? 

True  peace,  sweet  hope  and  love,  all  joys  of  soul  and  heart, 
'Twill  be  thine  heaven- appointed  mission  to  impart; 
And  more:  the  persecuted  must  thou  shield  afford, 
Melt  callous  hearts  with  love  of  God's  Incarnate  Word; 
Must  miDgle  with  the  lowly,  and  sustain  th'  oppressed, 
Reclaim  the  erring  and  give  help  to  the  distressed. 
But  most  sublime  of  all,  'twill  be  thy  God-given  power, 
The  prodigal  to  shrive,  in  his  repentant  hour; 
And  make  of  him  who  was  of  earth  a  poor,  vile  clod, 
An  angel  bright,  the  living  image  of  his  God. 

The  priest  is  another  Christ.  He  regenerates  the  soul  to  God  in 
the  sacrament  of  Baptism;  he  nourishes  it  with  the  bread  of  angels 
and  the  meat  which  never  perisheth,  and  if,  perchance,  it  fall  away 
from  its  only  support  and  stay,  the  embrace  of  a  loving  Jesus,  he, 
like  Christ  weeping  and  waiting  for  the  prodigal,  mourns  its  mis- 
deeds and  waits  in  prayer  and  hope  for  its  return. 


639 

The  priest  is  a  man  of  sympathy.  From  long  contact  with  the 
children  of  folly,  he  learns  the  infirmities  of  our  nature  and  the 
weakness  of  the  heart  and  pours  out  his  i^ity  upon  them,  for  like 
Him  that  made  us,  "  he  knows  our  frame  and  remembers  we  are 
dust."  O !  blessed  sympathy  that  soothes  sorrow  and  pours  upon 
it  the  balm  of  kindred  sorrow.  Let  all  priests  fully  awaken  to  this 
gift  of  sympathy,  which  they  learn  leaning  on  the  bosom  of  a  tender 
Jesus,  and  they  will  convert  the  world.  This  sj^npathy  gave  St. 
Paul  his  power.  "Who  is  weak  and  I  am  not  weak;  who  is  scan- 
dalized and  I  do  not  burn  ?  " 

The  priest  goes  down  to  the  people.  "  Feed  My  lambs;  feed  My 
sheep,"  were  the  commands  of  Him  who  taught  and  wept  and  re- 
buked, but  ate  and  drank  and  abode  with  those  whom  He  thus  re- 
buked. The  diffusible,  incomprehensible  i)ower  of  blessing  others 
belongs  to  the  priest  above  all  men,  and  he  can  exercise  it  only  as 
his  Master  did,  by  going  about  doing  good.  Absolute  self-consecra- 
tion fits  him  for  this  Christlike  work.  To  be  meek,  gentle,  inno- 
cent, retired,  chaste,  self-sacrificing;  to  forsake  the  gravitating  flesh 
and  soar  towards  the  boundless  azure  of  God — these  are  the  quali- 
ties that  give  point  to  his  persuasion,  authority  to  his  precepts,  power 
to  his  commands.  At  that  awful,  pregnant  juncture  when  he  made  his 
everlasting  covenant  with  Christ  pleasure,  prosperity,  honor,  safety, 
comfort,  home,  relationship,  all  melted  away  and  were  renounced 
forever.  The  consecrated  oil  penetrated  the  pores  of  his  being  and 
he  experienced  a  divine  presence,  a  divine  calling,  and  a  divine  de- 
votedness,  which  absorbed  and  transfigured  him.  Earth  faded  away 
before  him.  The  fashion  of  his  countenance  was  changed.  It  all 
seemed  a  new  world.  The  whole  heart  was  new.  The  future  was 
new.     The  heavens  were  opened  to  him — but  he  was  still  a  man. 

Yes,  a  man  with  human  hopes  and  human  fears  and  human  sym- 
pathies, and  human  passions  and  human  temptations,  which  at  the 
fateful  moment  of  his  dedication  would  have  come  upon  him  with 
crushing,  overpowering  weight,  but  for  the  tide  of  grace  that  over- 
flowed liis  soul.  Yet  this  was  the  experience  that  brought  in  re- 
sponsive touch  with  human  needs  and  infirmities.  To  renounce  the 
world  is  to  be  conscious  of  its  temptations.  To  surrender  one's  all 
to  God  is  to  know  the  fatal  feebleness  of  self  and  the  lamentable 
weakness   of  personal   endeavor.      The    possibilities   of    character 


640 

t 
always  exceed  the  results  of  actual  achievement.  Struggle,  earnest, 
prolonged,  deadly  struggle,  is  the  essential  law  of  the  soul's  progress 
towards  perfection.  The  man  who  has  never  labored  at  the  difficult 
work  of  self -conquest  knows  little  and  cares  Httle  for  the  pangs  of 
human  weakness.  "  Ah !  unhappy  man  that  I  am,  who  will  deliver 
me  from  the  body  of  this  death  ?  " 

This  is  the  wail  of  Adam's  fallen  children,  and  who  understands 
the  answer  like  him,  whose  divine  vocation  it  is  to  unlock  the  mys- 
teries of  the  human  heart  and  find  for  every  ill  its  appropriate 
remedy  ?  When  the  dark  shadow  of  affliction  beclouds  the  soul 
and  shakes  its  trust  and  confidence,  the  God-sent  physician  brings 
his  heavenly  balm,  and  on  the  pale-hued  stem  of  resignation  en- 
grafts the  flower  of  hope  ?  When  pain  and  poverty  harrow  and  vex 
the  life,  which  impatiently  chides  the  frowns  of  fortune,  who  spreads 
a  table  in  the  wilderness  of  woe  and  maketh  our  cup  to  overflow, 
like  the  faithful  priest  whose  heart  melts  at  every  misery  and  grieves 
over  every  sorrow  ? 

He  lives  for  his  people,  and  he  is  -willing  to  die  for  them.  He  has 
no  thought  but  to  serve  them;  no  hope,  no  ambition,  but  to  spend 
and  be  spent  for  them.  No  disease  so  loathsome  as  to  repel  him 
from  their  door;  no  danger  so  imminent  as  to  deter  him  from  re- 
sponding to  their  call.  Whether  in  the  face  of  the  pitiless  storm  of 
the  winter's  night,  or  under  the  broiling  sun  of  the  summer's  sky; 
whether  in  peril  or  security,  heat  or  cold,  light  or  darkness,  he  is 
ready,  eager  to  haste  to  the  beside  of  the  sick,  that  he  may  hansel 
the  soul  for  heaven,  soothe  its  last  sighs,  cheer  and  enliven  its  hope 
of  immortality  and  surrender  it  into  the  everlasting  arms  of  that  God, 
who  as  has  made  His  priests  the  shepherds  of  His  flock,  so  will  He 
hold  them  responsible  on  the  last  day  for  those  whose  names  are 
blotted  from  the  book  of  life.  Happy,  thrice  happy,  is  that  shep- 
herd who  can  say:  "Those  whom  Thou  hast  given  me  I  have  kejDt 
and  none  of  them  is  lost." 

And  such  a  minister  of  God  are  we  gathered  here  to  honor  on 
this  day.  A  man  who  has  been  weighed  in  the  scales  of  the  sanctu- 
ary, and  has  not  been  found  wanting.  A  man  who  has  been  no 
blind  leader  of  his  people;  no  hireling  shepherd,  no  "dumb  dog 
afraid  to  bark,"  when  the  wolf  sought  to  pierce  the  paddock  and 
fasten  upon  the  fold.    A  man  who,  planting  himself  upon  the  eternal 


641 

battle-line  of  right  and  wrong,  looked  down  with  the  eagle  eye  of 
scorn  upon  injustice  and  untruth,  and  who  has  exhibited  to  his 
flock  a  hfe  noble  in  its  knight-errantry  for  right  and  truth  in  the 
world. 

And  why  should  not  the  people  honor  their  beloved  priest  ?  Who 
stands  to  them  in  the  same  hallowed  relation  ?  Neither  father,  nor 
mother,  nor  brother,  nor  any  friend  soever  can  come  so  close  to 
them.  For  their  sake  he  left  father  and  mother  and  home  and 
friends,  aye,  and  country  too,  and  crossing  the  trackless  sea  he  came 
here  to  put  his  hand  to  the  plough,  and  turned  not  to  look  back 
again,  but  for  twenty-five  years  has  had  the  government  upon  his 
shoulders,  has  borne  the  burden  of  the  day  and  the  heat  in  the 
Master's  vineyard  to  lead  souls  into  that  kingdom  where  charity  is 
made  perfect  and  humanity  ij  crowned  with  glory. 

I  bore  some  small  share  of  his  labors,  and  I  can  testify  to  the  zeal 
and  devotion  with  which  he  discharged  the  manifold  duties  of  his 
sacred  calling.  I  care  not  to  indulge  a  fulsome  adulation,  but  I  am 
free  "  to  speak  what  I  do  know,"  and  it  is  my  pleasant  duty  to  bear  wit- 
ness to  his  tireless  energy  and  his  unflagging  endeavors  to  promote 
the  welfare  of  his  people  and  guide  them  by  the  light  of  his  ex- 
ample, no  less  than  by  the  power  of  precept,  to  that  home  eternal  in 
the  heavens,  that  house  not  made  by  human  hands. 

To-day,  sir,  twenty-five  golden  years  have  rolled  their  freighted 
tide  into  the  ocean  of  the  past;  years,  I  make  no  doubt,  like  those 
of  every  priest,  woven  with  hopes  and  fears,  sharp  griefs  and  beauti- 
ful joys;  but  years,  I  fondly  hope,  which  gleam  with  merit  in  the 
sight  of  God,  and  will  secure  for  you  the  crown  of  immortality. 

Toil  has  been  yours;  perhaps,  heaviness  of  heart;  weariness  at  the 
sight  of  sin  and  human  misery,  souls  fainting,  lost,  wandering  far 
from  the  light,  the  true  light  which  enlighteneth  every  man  that 
Cometh  into  the  world.  But  to  you,  as  to  every  true  soldier  of  the 
Lord,  comes  the  consolation  that  one  soul  rescued  from  sin  and  re- 
deemed unto  God  is  rich  in  value,  immeasurably  beyond  all  the 
pearls  and  rubies  and  sapphires  the  wide  earth  contains. 

And  sitting  here  to-day,  in  the  presence  of  the  great  Adorable,  in 
the  lovely  temple  ^yhich  you  and  your  people  have  erected  to  the 
living  God,  as  with  deep  emotion  you  turn  back  in  spirit  to  the  hal- 
lowed hour  when  with  rapture  that  filled  and  thrilled  your  breast, 
41 


642 

your  palms  were  anointed  with  the  Chrism,  which  consecrated  you 
to  God  forever,  what  heavenly  joy  does  not  the  memory  of  that  mo- 
mentous day  inspire  ! 

I  felicitate  you  upon  this  anniversary  day.  I  greet  you  in  the 
name  of  the  people  and  the  priests  here  assembled,  and  I  trust  your 
life  may  be  as  serene  as  a  summer's  day,  and  in  the  end  as  peaceful 
as  the  close  of  evening's  twilight.  I  pray  that  that  day,  in  God's  good 
mercy,  may  still  be  far  distant.  I  hope  that  the  same  bountiful  dis- 
positions of  divine  Providence,  which  so  signally  blessed  the  twenty- 
five  years  which  are  closing,  may  have  still  brighter  benisons  to  be- 
stow upon  you  in  the  days  that  are  yet  to  come.  May  no  sorrows 
becloud  your  days,  and  no  griefs  disturb  your  nights.  May  the 
fervor  of  the  zeal  which  has  been  so  conspicuously  displayed  in  all 
these  toilsome  years,  burned  upon  your  soul  on  the  day  of  your  or- 
dination, never  grow  cool,  but  only  flame  forth  more  ardently,  as  it 
is  fed  by  the  fuel  of  the  passing  years.  May  the  memory  of  that 
hallowed,  grace-laden  day  of  twenty-five  years  ago,  always  abide 
with  you  in  sunshine  and  in  storm,  whether  you  tread  the  smiling 
fields  of  success,  or  walk  the  stormy  road  of  trial  and  adversity;  and 
as  you  journey  down  the  rugged  road  of  life,  may  its  fragrant  mem- 
ory be  to  you  as  the  hanging  honeycomb  of  Jonathan,  to  which  you 
can  raise  your  hand,  lift  it  to  your  lips,  and  lo  !  your  f aintness  will 
speedily  pass  away;  may  it  be  to  you  as  the  flowering  rod  of  Aaron, 
whose  magic  touch  will  make  the  wilderness  of  your  affliction  blos- 
som with  roses  of  bright  joy,  and  every  desert  spot  within  your 
heart  become  an  Elim  and  Eden,  where  waving  palm-trees  grow, 
and  wells  of  living  water  perennially  spring. 

**  And  then  thy  heavenly  crown  !  thy  dazzling  throne, 
The  beauteous  radiance  of  the  Lamb  thereon. 
What  rills  of  light  will  bathe  thy  anointed  palms, 
What  rapturous  thanksgiving  mark  thy  psalms, 
And  most  thy  bliss,  when  every  joy  shall  show 
Sbme  soul  thou  saved'st  here,  in  toil,  below." 


lY. 

PAITH    AS    THE    FALCHIOlSr    IN    THE    SPIRITUAL 

STRUGGLE. 

PREACHED  IN   ST.   PATEICK'S   CHUECH,   CHICAGO,   ILL. 
"  This  is  the  victory  which  overcometh  the  world,  our  faith."— John  v.  4. 

Claiming  to  be  Christians  we  ought  to  lead  Christian  lives.  Now, 
the  Chi'istian  life  is  a  life  of  warfare,  for  as  soldiers  of  Christ  it  be- 
comes us  to  fight  for  Christ.  And  what  is  it  to  fight  for  Christ  ?  It 
is  to  enlist  under  His  leadership;  it  is  to  fight  as  He  fought;  it  is  to 
fight  in  His  name.  Christ  came  to  destroy  the  dominion  of  the 
devil;  to  suppress  the  slavery  of  sin;  to  war  with  a  wicked  world. 
Now,  with  Christ  we  have  common  cause;  and  as  He  has  already 
conquered,  we  must  now  fight  in  His  name,  for  "  there  is  no  other 
whereby  we  are  saved,"  Christ  Jesus  is  the  victor;  faith  in  His 
name  is  now  the  price  of  the  victory.  "  This  is  the  victoiy  which 
overcometh  the  world,  our  faith." 

In  the  mind  of  the  Catholic  Christian  two  ideas,  faith  and  victory, 
are  commonly  connected,  and,  as  the  apt  expression  of  Christian 
sentiment,  the  palm  branch,  sjTnbolical  of  a  victorious  struggle,  is, 
in  art,  representation,  placed  in  the  hand  of  the  hero  who  dies  a 
martyr  to  his  faith. 

What,  then,  is  the  relation  between  faith  and  spiritual  victory? 
The  Sacred  Text  tells  us  that  faith  is  the  instrument  and  pledge  of 
success  in  the  strife  with  the  foes  of  our  soul's  salvation.  If  this  is 
so,  then  faith  must  certain  in  itself  three  reasons:  First,  that  we  are 
bound  to  fight;  second,  that  faith  is  that  itself  which  enables  us  to 
fight;  and  last,  that  faith  gives  us  assurance  of  victory.  Faith  effects 
all  this:  hence  it  is  the  vehicle  of  victory. 

First,  faith,  of  its  nature,  demonstrates  that  we  are  bound  to  fight. 


644 

The  idea  of  victory  implies  the  notion  of  a  struggle; — that  of  suffer- 
ing. Now,  man  by  nature  is  as  prone  to  pleasure  as  he  is  averse  to< 
pain;  and  hence,  before  he  will  strive  to  conquer,  he  must  feel  the 
necessity  of  conquering.  Faith  furnishes  the  motives.  How?  We 
must  premise. 

Man  is  a  compound  of  body  and  soul,  of  which  God  is  the  cause;, 
and  from  this  fact  it  follows  that  a  threefold  life  is  possible  to  man. 
First  comes  the  life  of  the  body, — gross  and  animal, — common  ta 
man  and  brute;  next  the  life  of  the  soul  simply, — one  of  rank  rea- 
son, the  life  of  an  educated  savage;  and  lastly,  the  life  of  soul  and 
body  acting  in  harmony  with  God,  the  cause,  and  this  is  called  the 
life  of  faith.  This  is  the  life  of  faith,  and  that  it  appear,  we  must 
ask  what  faith  is.  But  first,  what  is  it  not  ?  Faith  is  not  reason, 
though  it  rests  on  reason,  nor  is  it  rose-colored  sentiment.  Neither 
is  it  the  logic  of  the  human  heart,  for  that  is  entirely  too  human. 
No;  faith  contains  two  elements:  human  effort  and  divine  grace. 
An  act  of  faith  is  an  act  of  belief, — believing  a  truth  on  God*& 
authority.  Now,  "believing,"  says  St.  Thomas,  "is  an  act  of  the 
mind  clinging  to  divine  truth  by  command  of  the  will,  moved  by 
grace."  Here  are  the  effort  of  the  will,  and  the  action  of 
grace.  This  grace  is  necessary;  for  no  being  can  outwork  its:- 
capacity,  and  before  the  mind  clings  to  truths  beyond  the  range  of 
reason,  the  will  must  force  it  to  believe.  This  the  will  cannot  do,, 
but  by  the  aid  of  grace, — "  without  me  you  can  do  nothing."  The 
will  is  free,  however,  and  can  resist  the  gentle  current  of  God'» 
grace;  but  when  it  commands  the  exercise  of  faith,  it  co-operates 
with  grace,  and  bows  down  submissively  before  the  Creator  in 
token  of  its  own  weakness.  Now,  this  is  the  highest  homage  we  can 
pay  to  God;  for  the  golden  gift  is  an  evidence  of  the  generosity  of 
the  giver,  and  by  the  exercise  of  faith  we  surrender  up  to  God  those 
faculties  which  constitute  the  nobility  of  our  manhood.  Now,  it  is 
characteristic  of  Infinite  Goodness  to  draw  all  creatures  to  itself, — to 
share  its  goodness  with  them;  and  the  more  fully  we  submit  to  its 
attractive  force,  the  more  closely  we  are  drawn  to  that  infinite  good. 
Hence,  as  faith  is  the  most  perfect  submission  we  can  make  to  God, 
so  must  it  be  that  bond  which  above  all  others  binds  us  to  our 
Maker;  and  hence,  too,  must  it  be  our  highest  good  in  this  life,  for 
that  must  be  our  greatest  good  which,  above  all  else,  unites  us  to 


645 

Infinite  Goodness.  But  since  the  true  end  of  life  is  to  attain  the  life 
that  never  ends,  it  were  like  gilding  gold  to  point  out,  by  proof,  that 
this  life  of  faith  is  the  only  true  life  for  man  to  lead  in  his  seeking 
^fter  immortality.  It  may  not  be  amiss,  though,  to  say  that  by  faith 
we  mean  here  faith  that  is  fixed  by  action,  and  lit  up  by  love.  The 
eternal  fitness  of  things  demands  that  the  Creator  love  His  creature, 
but  no  less  that  creature  return  His  love;  and  the  stronger  the  love 
on  the  creature's  part,  the  greater  his  perfection.  Since,  then,  this 
Hfe  of  faith,  illumined  by  love,  is  the  only  true  life  for  us;  since  it 
is  our  greatest  good  on  earth,  as  binding  us  to  the  Supreme  Good 
in  heaven,  it  follows  that  we  must  accept  it  and  act  it  out  in  prac- 
tice, or  we  shall  be  convicted  of  the  height  of  folly. 

Now,  my  friends,  as  the  life  of  faith  is  the  life  man  leads  in  union 
with  his  God,  so  the  Christian  life  of  faith  is  the  life  man  leads  in 
close  communion  with  Christ  our  Saviour;  for  Christ  is  God;  His 
teachings  and  revelations  are  the  words  of  God;  His  life  on  earth 
was  the  life  of  God.  But  we  live  a  life  in  union  with  Christ  when 
we  subject  our  will  to  His  will,  and  conform  our  life  to  His  life. 
N^ow,  Christ's  will  is  that  we  shall  suffer;  His  own  life  was  a  life  of 
struggles  and  suffering.  Hence  the  Christian  life  of  faith  is  a  life  of 
warfare;  and,  as  we  are  bound  to  accept  this  life  to  attain  our  end, 
we  find  in  the  nature  of  faith  convincing  proofs  that,  as  Christians, 
we  are  bound  to  fight  for  the  crown  of  glory.  Have  we  any  doubt 
of  Christ's  will  in  our  regard?  Look  at  the  lesson  of  His  life. 
Prom  His  babyhood  in  Bethlehem  to  the  last  sad  sigh  of  His 
suffering  soul  on  Calvary,  His  life  was  one  stupendous  strug- 
gle. In  that  meek,  still  voice  of  resignation  under  suffering. 
He  calls  out  to  us,  and  His  pathetic  pleadings  say — oh !  how 
plainly, — "Come,  carry  the  cross  of  the  Man  of  Sorrows."  "If 
any  man  will  follow  Me,  let  him  take  up  his  cross."  Faith, — the 
objective  truths  of  faith, — teaches  all  this;  it  teaches  that  there 
is  no  merit  without  suffering;  that  we  must  struggle  against 
the  world,  and  strive  to  be  detached  from  all  that  is  perish- 
able and  imperfect.  It  teaches  that  we  must  not  live  the  life  of 
flesh  and  blood,  but  must  rise  superior  to  the  senses,  and  crucify 
them  for  the  sake  of  Christ.  It  tells  us  to  make  no  concessions  to 
nature,  for  we  are  dragged  down  by  the  follies  of  the  flesh,  and  that 
if  we  strive  not  to  stem  the  downward  current,  our  soul  is  a  sailless 


646 

sTiip  on  the  vast  sea  of  God's  grace.  And  Mother  Church,  the  organ 
of  that  faith,  declares  her  mihtancy,  and  commands  us  to  go  forth 
girded  for  the  fray,  "  shod  with  the  preparation  of  the  Gospel,'*" 
encased  in  the  armor  of  faith  as  in  a  mail-coat  of  steel,  and,  like  the 
saintly  knights  of  old,  "  bearing  in  our  good  right  hand  the  sword 
of  the  spirit  of  God."  Nor  do  we  believe  blindly.  "  Our  service  is 
a  reasonable  service,"  for  Eternal  Truth  has  said,  "  Unto  you  it  is 
given  not  only  to  believe  in  Christ,  but  also  to  suffer  for  Him."  The 
motives  of  credibility  we  pass  through  the  crucible  of  criticism,  and, 
finding  an  infallible  Commander  in  the  Church,  we  hasten  forth 
to  conquer;  and  the  active  acceptation  of  the  truth,  subjective  faith, 
inspires  us  with  the  spirit  and  strength  of  God,  who  never  can  be 
conquered.     I  say,  then,  faith  teaches  that  we  are  bound  to  fight. 

But,  if  faith  is  the  means  of  victory,  it  must  enable  us  to  fight.  It. 
does;  how  ? 

First,  faith  gives  us  the  right  to  fight.  By  sin  mankind  became 
subject  to  Satan,  and  in  that  condition,  resistance  to  him  would  be  a 
real  rebellion.  The  father  of  the  human  family  fell  from  divine  fa- 
vor, and  so,  from  the  peaceful  paths  and  bright  bowers  of  the  gar- 
den of  God  he  was  forced  to  go  forth,  exiled  and  degraded,  to  walk 
in  a  wilderness  of  woe,  where  the  vigilant  sentinels  of  Satan  sat, 
ever  seeking  to  snatch  his  soul  to  destruction.  But,  if  lamentable 
his  lot,  man  was  not  driven  to  despair.  God,  in  His  limitless  love, 
said  that  He  should  sacrifice  His  sacred  Son,  that  those  who  should 
fix  their  faith  in  Him  might  live  unto  life  eternal.  God  was  the  of- 
fended; He  could  condone  the  offense,  and  prescribe  the  plan  of 
the  pardon.  Now,  as  man  by  infidelity  had  fallen,  so  was  it  ordered 
that  by  fidelity  he  should  rise.  Faith  in  the  Kedeemer's  advent  was, 
for  four  thousand  years,  the  sole  surety  of  salvation.  At  last,  un- 
hailed  as  a  hero.  He  came  as  a  conqueror;  and,  in  consequence,  man 
was  enabled  to  surmount  his  own  sphere,  and  begin,  of  right,  the 
supernatural  life  so  long  lost  by  sin.  Faith  gave  back  to  the  soul 
the  wings  clipped  off  in  its  fall.  But  Christ  came,  too,  by  His  preach- 
ing and  practice  to  point  out  that  the  path  of  perfection  was  beset 
by  the  thorns  of  affliction  sown  by  Adam's  sin-stained  hand;  and 
that  as  we  had  still  to  struggle,  faith  was  still  the  battle-ground  of 
the  fight.     I  say,  then,  faith  gave  us  the  right  to  fight. 

Again,  faith  enables  us  to  fight  by  showing  to  us  our  Leader  and 


647 

His  plans.  Christ  is  the  Leader  in  the  spiritual  combat,  and  Christ 
is  God,  the  infinite  and  incomprehensible  Being.  Then,  "  Who  shall 
declare  his  generation  ?  "  for  "  no  man  hath  seen  God  at  any  time,'* 
and  so  "  the  fool " — the  faithless  man — "  hath  said,  *  there  is  no  God.' " 
Now,  we  must  know  this  God,  our  Leader,  if  we  are  to  fight,  for 
who  will  follow  an  unknown  guide,  or  one  who  has  no  being  at  all  ? 

*'  Li  the  beginning  God  made  two  great  lights  " — one,  the  lordly- 
sun,  to  rule  the  day;  the  other,  the  mild,  pale  moon,  to  dispel  the 
darksome  nimbus  of  the  night;  so,  too,  He  made  reason  to  rule  in 
the  bright  realms  of  natural  truth,  but  faith  He  fashioned  as  the 
"  pillar  of  fire,"  to  guide  our  gropings  in  the  remote  regions  of  su- 
pernatural research.  Hence,  to  the  eagle  eye  of  faith  alone  is  it 
given  to  gain  a  glimpse  of  God.  No  being  can  do  more  than  it  is 
by  its  nature  fitted  to  do.  Then,  how  could  the  soul  see  God  who 
lives  the  supernatural  life,  if  it  were  not  made,  by  the  magnetism  of 
faith,  to  rise  above  its  natural  existence  ?  Though  in  heaven  we 
shall  see  God  as  He  is,  still,  even  by  faith,  we  cannot  fully  know  Him 
now;  but,  as  by  the  naked  orb,  we  cannot  see  the  far-off  stars,  so 
neither  can  we  know  anything  of  God,  save  by  faith,  the  telescope 
of  reason.  Faith  shows  us  something  of  God,  for  it  is  an  influx  of 
the  heavenly  light  in  which  -He  lives.  It  is  the  spai'k  of  inspiration 
that  makes  humanity  God-like;  and  though  the  science  of  faith  be 
the  science  of  simplicity,  still  it  is  beyond  the  ken  of  human  genius, 
or  the  penetration  of  the  proud  philosopher.  It  is  an  untaught  the- 
ology, and,  save  objectively,  it  is  not  bound  up  in  books.  It  is  the 
property  of  the  peasant,  as  well  as  of  the  preacher,  and  is  not  the 
prerogative  of  the  pround  and  learned,  more  than  of  the  poor  and 
ignorant; — no;  it  is  the  prop  of  divine  direction  that  sustains  every 
humble  soul  in  the  supernatural  sphere,  and  lifts  it  up  to  the  knowl- 
edge of  its  God. 

But,  besides,  faith  presents  to  us  our  Leader's  plans,  for  it  is 
through  the  Son  that  in  these  latter  days  the  Father  speaks  to  us, 
and  by  faith  the  Son's  revelations  are  made  visible  to  us,  and  we 
know  that  which  we  could  not  understand.  The  whole  scheme  of 
salvation  is  grounded  on  God's  gospel,  and  faith  is  the  flambeau  that 
illuminates  the  living  page,  so  that  "  He  who  runs  may  read."  The 
scheme  is  truly  simple  and  the  plan  quite  plain.  Christ  chose  pov- 
erty for  His  portion,  and  suffering  as  His  substance;  and  **in  the 


648 

resistless  eloquence  of  woe  "  He  commands  us  to  continue  His  course 
lest  we  fail  in  the  fight,  whilst  He  declares  that  "  to  him  who  shall 
conquer  it  shall  be  given  to  sit  with  Him  on  His  throne;  as  He  also 
conquered,  and  now  sits  with  His  Father  on  His  Father's  throne." 
Faith,  then,  shows  to  us  our  Leader's  plans. 

Again,  faith  enables  us  to  fight,  by  showing  to  us  our  enemies  and 
their  plans.  Faith  reveals  our  enemies,  for  it  teaches  that  God's  en- 
emies are  our  enemies,  and  sin  is  a  great  enemy  of  God.  It  tells  us 
that  we  must  be  in  union  with  Christ;  and  Christ's  example  is  to 
hate  the  world.  And  we  must  be  of  one  side  or  the  other.  "  If  you 
have  not  the  spirit  of  Christ,  you  are  not  of  Christ "  (Bom.  viii.  9). 
"  He  that  is  not  with  Me  is  against  Me."  It  threatens  us  with  de- 
struction if  we  cleave  to  the  world,  for  "  the  world  is  designed  for 
destruction."  It  says,  "  Woe  to  the  world  and  to  you,  if  you  worship 
the  world."  It  teaches  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  and  shows  that 
the  stab  of  the  sword  of  sin,  sends  it  unto  death  unending.  Faith 
fills  our  ear  with  the  sweet  sound  of  truth  eternal,  and  its  whispering 
voice  warns  us  to  beware  of  the  world,  and  never  to  put  away  our 
weapons,  if  we  wish  to  win.  Besides,  it  unhoods  the  vanity  of  the 
world,  where  all  is  hollow  pretension  and  stark  sham;  and  it  points 
out  the  crafty  indirection  of  its  plans.  By  silken  phrases  the  world 
would  wheedle  us  into  its  sinful  service;  but  faith  finds,  under  guise 
of  a  genuine  gem,  only  a  handful  of  delusive  dross.  In  the  genial 
glow  of  faith's  fire,  all  the  seductive  images  excited  by  Satan,  fade 
away  as  fog  in  sunshine,  before  the  weighty  realities  of  religion;  and 
pleasure's  phantoms  are  as  passing  as  the  first  flush  of  the  morning 
flower,  that  pales  ere  day  has  turned  to  dusk.  The  devil  is  a  decoy 
to  lure  us  to  destruction;  and  the  siren  of  pleasure  sings  her  heart- 
less songs  to  soothe  us  into  a  seeming  security;  but  faith  betrays 
this  blazonry  of  humbug,  and  in  simulated  friends  finds  foes  who  de- 
ceive, only  the  better  to  destroy.  It  is  appearances  that  are  decep- 
tive, and  the  coin  that  is  counterfeit  would  never  warp  our  judg- 
ment, were  the  true  test  at  hand  to  dim  it  by  comparison.  I  say, 
then,  it  is  faith  that  shows  how  spurious  are  substances  of  earth;  for 
it  is  the  loadstone  that  lifts  our  minds  to  the  contemplation  of  those 
invisible  goods,  which  are  ''the  objects  of  our  hope,"  and  by  the 
side  of  which  all  the  wealth  of  this  world  is  a  cipher,  or  a  shadowy 
semblance. 


649 

Lastly,  faith  enables  us  to  fight,  for  it  gives  us  the  needful 
strength.  This  strength  supposes  two  requisites  :  strong  determin- 
ation on  our  part  to  do;  help  from  on  High  to  fit  us  for  execution. 
Now,  dear  friends,  human  effort,  such  is  the  bent  of  the  will,  is  in 
even  ratio  with  the  obstacles  to  be  encountered.  Faith  presents  the 
obstacles  in  all  their  towering  enormity.  By  it  we  see  the  devil's 
pertinacity  and  cleverness  confronting  our  own  inconstancy  and 
shortsightedness,  and  our  will  is  excited  to  redouble  its  energy. 
Again,  the  example  and  teachings  of  the  world  work  to  weaken  our 
convictions;  but  faith,  by  withdrawing  us  from  that  example  tends 
to  keep  those  convictions  strong.  Faith,  then,  is  the  fulcrum  upon 
which  lies  the  lever  of  determination;  for  firmness  of  mind  requires 
just  two  things  :  one,  a  strong  conviction  of  the  truth;  the  other,  an 
unflinching  purpose  of  acting  out  that  conviction.  But  beyond  this 
faith  render^  that  conviction  and  that  purpose  superhuman, — it 
gives  help  from  on  high;  for  faith,  which,  subjectively,  is  the  ac- 
ceptance of  truth  on  the  authority  of  Him  who  cannot  deceive,  is 
the  strongest  conviction  possible  to  man;  whilst  at  the  same  time  it 
teaches  that  by  the  powers  of  nature  we  can  do  nothing  in  the 
fight, — as  we  cannot  think  or  choose  as  we  ought,  as  "  by  grace  we 
are  saved  through  faith,  and  that  not  of  ourselves,  for  it  is  the  gift 
of  God";  hence,  admitting  the  necessity  for  this  grace,  and  in  faith 
disposing  ourselves  for  its  incoming,  we  obtain  an  infusion  of  the 
Spirit  of  God,  we  resolve  with  the  unbending  purpose  of  God,  w^e 
strive  by  the  strength  of  God,  and  we  cry,  with  the  Apostle,  "  Not 
now  I,  but  the  grace  of  God  that  is  in  me."  Faith  gives  strength 
to  fight. 

Finally,  dear  Christians,  faith  gives  assurance  of  the  victory.  The 
next  best  thing  to  the  actual  possession  of  a  good,  is  a  firm  belief 
that  we  shall  some  day  certainly  obtain  it, — enjoyment  by  anticipa- 
tion. Now  faith  is  the  foreglow  of  the  sunburst  of  success;  it  is 
the  anticipated  victory;  for  as  it  forces  us  to  fight,  as  it  furnishes 
the  ability  required,  so  it  makes  success  infallibly  certain.  Besides, 
Christ,  Himself  the  Conqueror,  can  perform  His  promises,  because 
of  His  omnipotence;  and  as  truth  itself  He  must  redeem  His 
pledges;  hence  declaring  that  the  mourners  shall  be  comforted.  He 
vouchsafes  that  those  who  wage  war  shall  win.  But,  again, 
from  the  nature  of  the  battle,  victory  is  by  faith  assured.     Ours  is  a 


650 

contest  with  sin  and  Satan.  And  what  is  the  measure  of  success  in 
a  strife  with  sin  ?  It  is  gauged  by  our  growth  in  holiness.  But 
faith  does  not  act  negatively  only,  by  teaching  us  to  fight,  and  point- 
ing out  our  foes; — it  has  an  active  influence  in  the  fray,  for  it  builds 
up  this  life  of  holiness,  and  just  as  we  rise  in  sanctity,  just  so  we 
are  strong  in  suffering.  Now  sanctity  stands  on  two  foundation- 
stones  :  communion  with  the  Creator  and  detachment  from  the 
creature.  But  we  have  seen  that  faith  is  the  strongest  bond  of 
union  with  God,  as  it  is  the  motive  for  our  hatred  of  the  world,  and 
hence  it  is  the  inception  of  the  victory  here,  of  which  the  vision  of 
God  hereafter  will  be  the  glorious  completion,  for  faith  is  the  soul 
of  sanctity,  and  sanctity  is  the  standard  of  success.  But,  entering 
on  the  warfare  of  a  lifetime,  one  other  element  is  needful  to  give  us 
emphatic  assurance  of  the  coveted  triumph — we  must  know  that  we 
will  persevere.  Perseverance,  without  prayer,  is  a  closed  casket  to 
every  Christian.  But  faith  assures  us  of  victory,  because  the  man 
of  faith  will  pray.  Having  faith  in  prayer  he  will  pray  for  faith. 
He  holds  prayer  to  be  faith's  handmaid,  for  by  faith  he  pays  his 
homage  to  God,  and  prayer  is  but  asking  God  to  accept  our  ac- 
knowledgments when  we  bend  our  mind  and  will  before  the  majesty 
of  truth  Eternal.  As  the  summary,  then,  of  all  we  have  said,  faith 
teaches  that  fight  we  must;  it  enables  us  to  fight,  and  it  assures  ua 
of  the  victory;  or,  to  adopt  the  bold  figure  of  St.  John,  it  is  victory 
itself  :  "  This  is  the  victory,"  etc. 

Now  what  practical  conclusion  do  we  derive  from  all  this? 
Suffering  is  our  lot  in  life;  by  faith  we  must  fight  to  win.  What 
follows  ?  That  we  must  cherish  this  faith"  and  hug  it  to  our  hearts. 
We  must  stand  up  bravely  for  it,  if  need  be,  like  the  saints  and 
martyrs,  those  first  flowers  of  the  Church  who  sealed  it  by  surrender- 
ing their  lives;  and  we  should  strive  to  stem  the  havoc  of  heresy 
which,  in  these  days,  so  ravages  God's  kingdom  upon  earth.  Oh ! 
for  the  days  of  first  fervor  and  primitive  purity,  when  prince  and 
people  knelt  at  one  altar,  and  men's  brains  were  crazed  by  no 
jangling  controversies  concerning  creeds.  Then  bonds  of  steel  and 
electric  wires  were  not  wanted  to  call  men  into  communion,  for  they 
were  indissolubly  drawn  together  by  the  clasp  of  Christian  charity 
into  the  benign  brotherhood  of  faith.  Yes;  we  should  hate  heresy; 
and  in  the  busy  buzz  of  life,  should  guard  against  the  errors  of  the 


651 

age  whose  art  it  is  to  sneer  at  simple  faith  and  pious  practices.  The 
cross  of  Christ,  the  symbol  of  our  sufferings,  and  the  "^finishing  of 
our  faith,"  we  should  embrace  with  fond  affection,  and  never  blush 
to  sign  our  forehead  with  Christ's  seal  in  profession  of  our  faith. 
Look  at  those  saintly  missionaries  who  carried  God's  Gospel  through 
the  world;  they  could  suffer  for  the  faith.  If  their  deeds  are  not 
blazoned  on  the  page  of  fame,  they  are  lodged  in  the  aU-retaining 
memory  of  God.  Impaled  by  a  thousand  perils,  they  trod  the 
tropic's  sandy  plains,  the  torch  of  truth  in  their  right  hand,  and  the 
plummet  of  progress  in  their  left;  and  where  spotless  snows  encircle 
icy  poles  they  bravely  bore  the  banner  of  the  faith.  Such  things  we 
are  not  called  upon  to  do — only  to  bear  a  moral  battle  with  the 
courage  of  a  Christian.  This  we  can  do  if  we  are  firm  in  the  faith. 
We  shall  be  firm  if  we  form  the  habit.  Hence  it  becomes  us  to 
make  frequent  acts  of  faith,  so  as  to  get  an  increase  of  God's  grace. 
Above  all  we  should  pray  for  faith.  Faith  is  the  gate  of  Paradise, 
but  prayer  is  the  key  of  faith.  We  should,  then,  pray  as  our  Lord 
prayed  for  Peter  that  his  faith  might  not  fail.  AU  this  we  should 
do — what  have  we  done  ?  We  know  that  to  live  by  the  senses  is  to 
be  as  the  brute;  that  to  be  governed  solely  by  reason  is  to  be  as  a 
monster  more  than  a  man;  but  that  to  live  in  the  light  of  faith  is  to 
live  in  union  with  God  our  Creator.     And  what  is  our  practice  ? 

Have  we  not  acted  as  if  we  believed  not,  or  at  least  as  if  we 
doubted,  forgetting  that  there  are  no  half-heai-ted  measures  with  God  ? 
Or  is  not  our  faith  a  dead  faith  ?  The  value  of  virtue  is  estimated 
by  action,  for  of  what  use  to  be  persuaded  of  a  truth  if  we  act  it  not 
out  in  our  daily  lives  ?  Let  us,  then,  thank  God  for  the  gift  of  faith, 
and  beg  of  Him  that  profound  and  living  faith  which  in  reality  can 
move  mountains.  In  trial  and  affliction  let  us  look  up  to  the  in- 
visible regions  where  faith  is  wont  to  soar,  and  comfoi-t  will  come 
for  certain.  Let  faith  be  the  guide  and  ruling  influence  of  our 
lives,  and  then  we  shall  learn  to  suffer,  and  as  we  suffer  we  shall 
learn  to  love,  and  love  is  the  last  link  in  the  chain  that  connects  us 
to  our  God.  Living  in  that  love  the  Holy  Spirit  will  breathe  out 
upon  us  blessings,  and  when  the  smoke  of  this  earthly  strife  has 
scattered  far  away  we  shall  see  our  Lord  and  Maker  as  He  is,  no 
longer  through  a  glass  darkly,  but  full  face  to  face,  and  shall  win 
the  incorruptible  crown  of  the  Christian  Conqueror. 


V. 
LYING. 

PREACHED   IN  THE  IMMACULATE   CONCEPTION   CHUECH, 
CAMDEN,   N.   J. 

"  As  long  as  breath  remaineth  in  me,  and  the  Spirit  of  God  in  my  nostrils, 
my  lips  shall  not  speak  iniquity,  neither  shall  my  tongue  contrive  lying." — 
Job  xxxii.  2. 

We  live  in  a  lying  age.  Deception  and  deceit  stalk  abroad 
through  the  land,  and  hardly  any  man  has  confidence  or  credit  in 
the  word  of  his  neighbor.  To  lie  is  with  many  men  as  easy  as  to 
speak.  In  days,  unhappily,  past  the  liar  was  branded  as  a  social 
pest  and  shunned  as  a  scorpion,  but  it  frequently  happens,  in  these 
days  of  light  and  progress,  that  the  man  who  has  a  talent  for  tortur- 
ing the  truth  is  worshipped  as  a  wit,  or  a  genius  endowed  with  a 
lively  fancy.  And,  alas !  it  is  too  sadly  true,  that  he  who  begins 
with  tales  of  his  own  exaggerated  exploits,  soon  learns  to  blast  with 
the  breath  of  slander  the  fair  fame  of  his  fellow-man.  And  the 
bleeding  reputation  excites  no  pity,  and  the  base  work  of  the  reviler 
hardly  a  cold  comment  in  censure  of  his  conduct. 

What  accounting  shall  we  give  ourselves  for  this  blunted  moral 
sense  as  to  the  value  of  truth  ?  Why  is  sincerity  of  soul  placed  at 
so  poor  a  price  ?  I  can  render  a  single  response :  It  is  because  we 
wander  away  from  God,  and  in  this  age  of  feeble  faith  yet  more 
than  ever,  for  now  the  lie  of  lies  is  rampant  which  puts  God  Himself 
aside  by  denying  His  existence  and  reality.  Yes,  truly  doth  the 
Sacred  Text  declare:  "The  wicked  are  estranged  from  God,  and  go 
away  speaking  lies  "  (Ps.  Iviii.  3). 

Let  us  see  how  this  is: 

A  He  is,  as  we  say,  locutio  contra  mentem,  an  utterance  contrary  to 


653 

the  mind  of  the  speaker;  and,  therefore,  it  is  something  directly  op- 
posed to  truth,  for  truth  is  speech  in  conformity  with  the  speaker's 
mind.  If  a  he  is  the  contradictory  of  truth,  it  is  an  obvious  sequence 
that,  in  proportion  as  we  embrace  falsehood,  so  do  we  recede  from 
truth,  and  as  we  recede  from  truth,  we  depart  from  God,  for  God  is 
truth.  The  converse  of  this  proposition  is  likewise  true;  for,  if  as 
we  cHng  to  falsehood  we  cast  off  God,  so  as  we  depart  from  God  do 
we  run  foul  of  falsehood.  God  is  truth,  God  is  sincerity,  God  is 
simplicity  as  clear  as  crystal,  and  that  God  of  simplicity  and  truth 
has  created  us,  as  to  our  soul,  after  His  own  image  and  likeness, 
pure  and  true  and  simple.  But  that  soul  of  ours,  to  be  true  to  the 
Model  which  it  mirrors,  must  be  simple  and  candid  in  its  operations 
and  in  its  nature; — in  the  operations  of  the  intellect,  by  which  it 
must  have  one  trend  and  tendency,  and  that  for  truth;  in  the 
operations  of  its  will,  by  which  it  must  have  one  single  bent,  and 
that  for  God. 

Yes;  God  is  truth,  and  all  things  are  true,  only  in  so  far  as  they 
are  in  act  and  nature  harmonious  with  the  ideas  existing  in  the 
divine  mind  of  Him  who  made  them.  They  are  true,  as  they  have 
that  being  which  God  gave  them,  and  that  being  is  true  because  it 
is  conformable  to  the  concept  or  idea  of  the  infinite  intellect.  Now, 
as  all  things  created  have  by  nature  a  correspondence  with  the  mind 
of  their  Maker,  which  may  be  called  the  truth  of  being,  so  also  is  it 
ordained  that  an  exact  correspondence  should  subsist  between  the 
ideas  of  the  human  mind  and  the  realities  which  those  ideas  repre- 
sent; and  just  so  far  as  this  correspondence  is  deficient,  in  so  far 
will  the  mind  be  charged  with  error,  or,  at  least,  be  destitute  of 
truth.  But  if  our  conceptions,  to  be  true,  must  be  congruent  with 
the  things  for  which  they  stand;  if,  for  example,  my  idea  of  a  tree, 
to  be  true,  must  be  an  exact  mental  image  of  a  tree,  and  if,  besides, 
my  intellect  was  made  solely  for  the  possession  of  truth,  then  it  is 
plainly  deducible  that  my  manifestation  of  those  conceptions  must 
be  a  true  manifestation:  which  means  that  I  must  manifest  them  as 
they  exist  in  my  mind;  that  I  must  speak,  if  I  speak  at  all,  what  I 
think,  declare  what  I  mean — in  one  word,  I  must  speak  the  truth. 
The  only  denial  to  this  position  is  to  hold  that  the  mind  was  made 
to  receive,  but  not  to  express  truth,  which  is  equivalent  to  the  con- 
tention that  it  was  not  made  for  truth  at  all.     This  the  more  so,  as 


654 

those  intellects  which  depend  on  others  for  their  knowledge  could 
have  no  guarantee  whatever  that  they  could  learn  the  truth. 

This  obligation  to  speak  the  truth  is  founded  on  the  very  essences 
of  things;  it  is  a  logical  consequence  of  what  philosophers  call  the 
first  fact,  viz.,  that  our  intellects,  having  the  capacity,  were  destined 
to  know  the  truth.  For  how  are  they  to  know  the  truth  unless  it  be 
presented  ?  "  Faith  comes  by  hearing."  And  would  it  be  presented, 
if  men  were,  or  could  be  allowed  to  lie  ?  The  human  mind  does  not 
invent  truth;  it  discovers,  it  finds  it;  and  that  by  many  helps 
outside  itself.  To  obtain  truth  there  exist  two  principal  ways,  and 
they  are,  reason  and  authority,  or  personal  research  and  the  teach- 
ing of  others.  How  much  do  we  learn  of  truth  by  unassisted  effort  ? 
Even  of  that  which  we  think  we  learn  by  our  own  lights,  how  much 
rests  on  the  reason  and  authority  of  others  ?  Solomon  was  true  to 
his  wisdom  when  he  said  there  was  nothing  new  under  the  sun.  If 
such  be  the  fact,  and  if  men  were  made  for  truth,  it  could  never  be 
allowable  that  men  should  declare  in  language  the  contradictory  of 
the  ideas  existing  in  their  minds;  for  on  such  insane  hypothesis  the 
various  classes  of  men  would  lead  one  another  a  fantastic  dance 
through  the  mazes  of  error  and  falsehood.  If  men  could  be  per- 
mitted to  lie,  how  could  the  family  and  society  endure,  for  their  ex- 
istence and  stability  depend  on  the  veracity  of  their  members  and 
the  trust  and  confidence  founded  upon  that  veracity  ?  Where  would 
be  religion  and  reverence  for  God  if  men  could  believe  in  the  nude 
possibility  of  His  errancy  or  liability  to  lie  ?  Would  not  all  tender 
confidence  in  Him,  in  His  promises  of  rewards,  and  all  fear  of  His 
threats  of  punishments,  be  wiped  out  utterly  and  forever  ? 

God,  by  a  real  necessity  of  His  nature,  as  He  is  truth  itself,  must 
lay  us  under  the  obligation  of  telling  the  truth.  If  our  minds  are 
made  for  truth,  then  our  tongues  must  speak  the  truth.  If  the  first 
assumption  be  founded  in  the  eternal  fitness,  so  must  the  second,  and 
God  Himself  could  not  otherwise  ordain.  Even  so  it  is.  True, 
there  exists  a  positive  law  of  God  which  says,  "  Thou  shalt  not  bear 
false  witness,"  but  this  law  is  only  an  affirmation  of  that  eternal  and 
unchangeable  law  which  is  fashioned  in  those  divine  decrees  which 
have  operated  in  the  essentiality  of  God  from  the  morning-time  of 
eternity.  It  would  be  just  as  true  that  man  could  not  deflect  from 
the  truth,  if  God  had  given  no  command,  as  it  would  be  had  He 


655 

given  ten  thousand.  Some  things  are  evil  only  because  forbidden; 
others  are  forbidden  because  they  are  evil;  and  to  this  latter  class  do 
lies  belong.  Here  might  be  made  an  evident  inference.  Under  no 
pretext  can  a  lie  be  justifiable;  for  what  is  of  its  nature  evil,  no 
power  can  authorize  to  be  done.  No  question  of  the  permission  of 
evil  is  raised  here,  because  it  is  beyond  the  scope  of  this  discussion. 
If,  then,  it  depends,  not  so  much  on  the  divine  commands,  as  on 
the  nature  of  things,  or  on  the  eternal,  necessary  law  in  the  mind  of 
God,  that  falsehood  be  evil;  it  flows,  likewise,  from  the  nature  and 
constitution  of  God  that  the  same  thing  be  evil,  for  there  can  be  no 
law  in  the  nature  of  things  but  that  which  coincides  with  the  eternal 
law  to  which  God  is  obliged  by  reason  of  the  preservation  of  His 
own  nature,  His  own  existence,  His  own  being.  Self-preservation 
is  the  first  law  of  God's  nature  as  well  as  of  our  own.  Herein  lies  the 
mighty  malice  of  falsehood.  For  is  it  not  an  attempted  subversion 
of  the  eternal  order  of  things;  which  order  is  rooted  in  the  very 
essence  of  God  ?  It  is,  as  it  were,  an  attack  upon  the  very  nature 
and  the  personality  of  God.  The  liar  seems  to  tread  the  border- 
land of  infidelity.  And  why  ?  The  infidel  boldly  rejects  belief  in 
God's  existence,  while  the  liar  assails  that  same  existence,  at  least 
indirectly,  by  impeaching  an  attribute  inseparable  from  the  essence 
of  the  Godhead,  the  divine  veracity.  Yes,  a  lie  is  an  assault  upon 
the  very  constitution  of  God,  and  the  puny  liar  would  uproot  the 
foundations  of  the  eternal  Founder,  and  annihilate,  in  his  intent, 
the  indestinictible  God !  Ah !  in  this  view  of  the  matter  are  those 
little  fibs,  as  we  indulgently  call  them,  things  of  minor  consequence  ? 
Think  of  it,  ye  who  strangle  truth  and  clutch  at  her  tender  throat, 
ye  strike  with  your  lying  lance  at  the  heart  of  the  living  God.  Ye 
do  more.  You  would  dash  from  the  arms  of  His  eternal  Father, 
Jesus  Christ,  the  Son  of  God,  and  quench  the  light  of  everlasting 
love  that  flames  from  the  Holy  Ghost.  How  so '?  Because  truth  lies 
in  the  conformity  of  the  intellect  with  the  object  of  its  knowledge. 
Hence  there  must  be  an  exact  conformity  between  the  mind  of  God 
and  the  object  of  His  contemplation.  This  conformity,  however, 
could  not  exist  if  God  had  not  a  commensurate  and  adequate  object 
for  His  infinite  intellect.  We  contemplate  the  world  around  us,  and 
that  world  suffices  for  the  contemplation,  because  the  relation  is  be- 
tween the  finite  and  the  finite;  God  may  be  said  to  contemplate  it, 


656 

too,  for  He  knows  all  things  in  Himself,  but  the  finite  world  could 
offer  nothing  as  a  sufficient  term  of  divine  contemplation.  God, 
therefore,  is  Himself  the  sole  adequate  object  of  His  knowledge,  and 
it  is  by  the  act  by  which  He  contemplates  Himself — this  first,  great, 
essential  act  of  truth — the  equation  between  God  and  His  own  in- 
tellect— ^by  this  act,  I  say,  is  produced  the  eternal  generation  of  the 
Son  of  God,  the  infinite  Word,  who  was  in  the  beginning  with  God 
and  was  God,  and  from  the  love*  born  of  this  contemplation  of  Su- 
preme Goodness  of  Its  own  inexhaustible  perfections,  springs  the 
Holy  Ghost.  The  eternal  generation  of  the  Son  of  God,  with  which 
coheres  the  procession  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  is,  then,  the  first  great  act 
of  truth,  the  conformity  of  God  with  His  own  intellect.  AVhenever, 
therefore,  man  embraces  falsehood,  which  is  the  non-conformity  of 
the  mind  with  its  object,  he  protests,  as  it  were,  against  the  con- 
formity of  God  with  His  intellect,  which  conformity  should  be  imi- 
table  and  imitated  by  man;  he  protests  against  the  eternal  genera- 
tion of  the  Son  of  God;  he  protests  against  the  being  of  the  Holy 
Ghost;  he  protests  against  the  existence  of  the  Father,  who  could 
not  exist  without  the  Son  and  the  Holy  Ghost,  for  He  must  know 
and  love  Himself:  in  brief,  he  attempts  to  uptear  the  eternal  ele- 
ments of  the  Triune  God ! 

From  this  standpoint  there  is  no  room  to  marvel  at  the  awful 
denunciations  of  lying  which  are  printed  in  the  Sacred  Page.  "  Ly- 
ing lips  are  an  abomination  to  the  Lord"  (Prov,  xii.  22).  "God 
hateth  the  lying  tongue  "  (Prov.  vi.  17).  "  He  that  speaketh  lying 
shall  not  escape  "  (Prov.  xiv.  5).  "  All  liars  shall  have  their  portion 
in  the  lake  that  burns  of  brimstone  and  fire"  (Apoc.  xxi.  8).  No 
wonder  that  God  execrates  a  liar,  since  He  must  defend  His  own 
existence.  How  can  we  have  partnership  with  the  father  of  lies, 
when  we  look  at  the  subject  in  this  light  ?  Whenever  the  arch- 
enemy tempts  man  to  lie,  if  the  tempted  will  only  recall  to  mind  the 
bearing  of  falsehood  upon  the  existence  and  character  of  God,  he 
will  be  slow  to  sear  his  soul  wdth  the  shameful  sin  of  lying. 

But  despite  this  severe  arraignment  of  the  sin  of  lying,  it  is  not 
to  be  inferred  that  every  lie  is  a  mortal  sin.  That  would  be  to  sadly 
mislead  the  conscience.  I  would  inculcate  one  principle :  that  tak- 
ing this  view  of  the  matter,  no  lie,  however  small  the  matter,  is  a 
thing  of  insignificant  moment.     And  this  is  a  common  error  of  the 


657 

day.  It  is  true  that  many  lies,  by  reason  of  defect  of  knowledge,  or 
because  of  the  triviality  of  the  subject-matter,  may  not  exceed  a 
venial  sin;  but  they  are  venial  sins  of  a  dangerous  character,  which 
easily  conduce  to  the  commission  of  mortal  sins.  Yes,  tliey  are 
venial  sins,  but  they  are  still  sins,  and  men  have  no  right  to  alter 
their  nature  by  the  puerile  plea  that  they  are  of  no  consequence  at 
all.  It  is  strange  but  sadly  true  that  men  nowadays  will  suffer 
swarms  of  Ues  to  escape  their  lips,  and  then  will  "  wipe  their 
mouths,"  in  the  language  of  Holy  Writ,  "  and  say  they  have  done  no 
evil."  Ah !  it  is  a  grave  thing  to  sin  by  habit;  but  if  a  man  fall,  and 
then  in  the  sincerity  of  his  soul,  recognizing  that  he  has  done  wrong, 
laments  his  error,  the  evil  is  but  transient,  and  he  is  in  a  fair  way  to 
rise  again.  When,  however,  having  done  that  which  his  better  sense 
affirms  to  be  evil,  a  man  forges  a  false  principle  to  justify  his  action, 
and  makes  sin  no  longer  to  be  sin,  he  is  doing  himself  a  permanent 
injury,  and  rapidly  rushing  along  the  road*of  eternal  min.  This  is 
precisely  the  evil  in  the  sin  of  lying.  People  put  forth  untruths  in 
wholesale  quantities,  and  then  try  to  invent  premises  whereby  they 
can  lull  their  consciences  to  sleep,  under  the  damaging  delusion  that 
they  have  wrought  no  wrong.  I  allude  not  to  those  broad,  bare 
falsehoods  which  are  too  deformed  to  be  decorated  in  the  stolen 
plumes  of  truth;  but  refer  to  that  mental  maneuvering  by  which  the 
truth  is  so  cloaked  and  clouded  as  to  mislead  and  deceive  the  list- 
ener, and  by  which  falsehood  is  so  glossed  and  garbed  with  the 
veneering  of  truth,  that  men  are  led  to  think  it  stamped  with  the 
seal  of  that  priceless  virtue.  To  these  heads  may  be  referred  that 
series  of  equivocations,  quibbles,  mental  restrictions,  innuendoes,  ex- 
aggerations, subtilties,  fallacies,  and  subterfuges,  and  even  smart  lit- 
tle slanders  told,  sometimes,  in  a  tragicomical  way — half  jest,  half 
earnest — which  form  the  staple  of  conversation  among  men,  to  re- 
deem whom,  from  error  and  falsehood,  Jesus  Christ  shed  His  pre- 
cious blood,  and  to  whom  God  gave  mind  and  speech,  not  to  make 
dalliance  with  devilish  deceit,  but  to  declare  the  praises  of  Him  who 
is  truth,  pure,  essential,  and  unalloyed. 

It  is  told  of  Epaminondas,  the  pagan,  that  he  could  not  be  per- 
suaded to  tell  a  lie,  even  in  jest.  Would  that  many  Christians  had 
the  courage  of  this  honest  heathen  How  many  reputations  are 
filched  away  by  the  covert  sneer,  and  the  more  insidious  but  men- 
dacious ajrt  of  him  who 
42 


658 

"Damns  with  faint  praise,  assents  with  civil, 
And  without  sneering,  teaches  others  to  sneer." 

Eut  men  say  these  little  transparencies,  these  white  lies,  are  devoid 
of  harm.  No  lie  is  white,  but  is  black  as  hell.  This  is  a  pernicious 
code  of  morality.  We  cannot  tamper  or  trifle  with  truth.  It  is  too 
precious  to  be  subject  to  wanton  play;  it  would  be  in  danger  of  de- 
struction. "  Common  things  grow  cheap,"  and  if  we  toy  with  truth, 
we  vilipend  it,  soon  get  for  it  a  disesteem,  and  shortly  cast  it  aside. 
Besides,  this  half  truth,  this  little  jugglery  of  words,  is  worse  than  a 
great  whopper,  which,  being  plain  and  patent,  can  be  met  and  con- 
tradicted; but  the  scarecrow  truth,  so  cunningly  devised  and  decked 
out,  is  more  difficult  to  counteract,  and  hence  it  can  often  work  out 
its  evil  end,  undetected  and  unchallenged.  ''  As  long  as  breath  re- 
maineth  in  me,  my  lips  shall  not  speak  iniquity,  neither  shall  my 
tongue  contrive  lying." 

I  would  not  enter  upon  the  refinements  of  a  theological  treatise  on 
the  lawfulness  or  unlawfulness  of  those  mental  restrictions,  as  they 
are  called,  of  which  so  much  discussion  has  been  held.  Suffice  it  to 
say,  that  I  do  not  think  I  shall  ever^have  occasion  to  use  them,  and  I 
hope  all  men  never  will.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  not  contended 
that  it  is  at  all  times  necessary  to  speak  the  truth;  but  not  to  declare 
the  truth  and  to  declare  falsehood  are  things  widely  apart.  Silence 
is  often  golden.  As  to  mental  restrictions,  in  the  broad  sense,  it 
would  be  well  for  all  to  adopt  the  views  of  Cardinal  Newman :  "  If 
all  killing  be  not  murder,  nor  all  taking  from  another  be  not  steal- 
ing, why  should  all  untruths  be  lies  ?  I  will  say  freely,  that  I  think 
it  difficult  to  answer  this  question;  at  the  same  time,  /  have  never 
acted"  But  be  this  as  it  may,  shun  all  ambiguities  of  language,  and 
cultivate  candor  of  speech.  O  !  for  the  old-time  sincerity  and  plain- 
ness of  discourse,  when  men  spoke  as  they  felt,  without  counting  the 
cost.  It  was  not  customary  then  to  compliment  a  man  to  his  face, 
and  rend  to  rags  his  reputation  behind  his  back.  Plain,  bluff,  hon- 
est speech  had  then  vogue  and  fashion.  This  plain  directness  of 
language  is  the  mark  of  a  noble  and  courageous  mind.  Be  assured, 
the  man  who  possesses  this  virtue  is  endowed  with  many  others,  and 
more  especially  that  of  moral  courage;  while  the  smooth  and  oily 
dissembler  is  not  infrequently  found  to  be  infected  with  many  vices, 
and  chiefly  is  he  chargeable  with  cowardice  and  want  of  fidelity.     I 


659 

^wrould  not  have  men  become  boors,  to  blurt  out  the  blazing  facts  re- 
gardless of  the  pain  inflicted.  To  be  truthful,  men  need  not  be  dis- 
agreeable. Candor  and  sincerity  are  not  boorishness  and  bad  breed- 
ing. Amenities  are  to  be  observed  in  social  life  and  in  all  inter- 
course with  others.  Speech  should  always  be  kind  and  considerate, 
and  nothing  is  often  a  safe  and  salutary  subject  for  conversation. 
Truth  must  be  tempered  with  charity. 

On  the  contrary,  men  should  not  by  pseudo-politeness  polish  them- 
selves out  of  their  conscience.  And  how  often  are  they  guilty  of 
this  social  sin !  I  can  tell  you,  good  people,  that  if  you  were  to 
make  an  annual  reckoning  of  all  the  small  lies  false  politeness  oc- 
casions you,  you  would  be  considerably  surprised  and  proportion- 
ately mortified.  If  a  person  presents  himself  at  a  home,  where  his 
room  is  more  esteemed  than  his  company,  the  host  professes  delight 
&t  the  visit,  and  the  visitor  is  pressed  to  tarry  longer  than  he  lists, 
when  in  heart  the  entertainer  would  wish  his  guest  at  the  antipodes. 
If  a  comer  sends  up  his  card,  and  the  occupant  of  the  house  gets  a 
chance  to  hide  his  head  (which  a  moment  before  was  seen  by  the  in- 
truder at  the  window),  the  visitor  is  politely  informed  that  the  man 
of  the  house  is  "not  at  home."  This  is  taken  to  mean,  "not  at  home 
to  such  company";  and,  of  coiu*se,  it  is  so  understood,  as  the  lying 
phiz  was  seen  at  the  window.  If  a  neighbor  says,  "  May  I  have  one 
word  with  you  ?  "  and  you  conclude  the  loan  would  be  an  unprof- 
itable one,  you  prefer  not  to  appear  rude  to  one  you  so  much  regard, 
and  you  say,  "  I  am  really  sorry,  but  I  can't  oblige  you."  O  !  but 
you  are  sui'charged  with  sorrow.  Truly,  grief  is  beautiful,  but,  alas  ! 
half  of  it  is  a  beautiful  humbug.  What  hollow  mockery,  what  de- 
ceit, what  hypocrisy,  what  unblushing  falsehood !  Don't  let  polite- 
ness be  a  source  of  sin. 

How  much  lying  there  is  in  the  ordinary  transactions  of  life,  where 
speech  hardly  comes  into  play  at  all,  and  which  we  call  lying  actions. 
We  can  lie  by  action  as  well  as  by  word.  Words  are  but  the  signs 
of  ideas,  and  as  men  can  lie  by  words,  so  also  can  they  by  any  sign 
by  which  ideas  are  manifested.  A  clerk,  or  a  man  of  business,  who 
has  made  a  speculation  and  lost  with  great  abihty  "  doctors  up  "  his 
accounts,  so  that  the  employer  or  partner,  when  he  comes  to  audit 
the  work  at  the  end  of  the  year,  misled  by  the  manifestation  of  facts 
and  figures,  congratulates  himself  upon  the  sound  and  prosperous 


660 

condition  of  his  business,  when  alas !  a  month  hence  the  bourse  is 
startled  with  a  huge  financial  explosion,  and  the  labors  of  a  life  are-^ 
in  ruin.  The  criminal  never  spoke  a  syllable,  but  he  lied  furiously 
by  addition,  subtraction,  multiplication,  and — silence. 

This  method  of  lying  is  not  uncommon  among  domestics.  Hard- 
worked  and  ill-requited  girls,  I  would  say  nothing  harsh  of  them.  It 
is  not  the  women  of  wealth  and  fashion,  but  the  wage-working  girls, 
with  their  dear-bought  dimes  and  dollars,  who  have  built  up  the 
churches  of  this  country.  But  neither  shall  we  say  anything  untrue 
in  praise  of  them.  Yoiing  woman,  when  you  have  broken  that  val- 
uable bisque  ornament,  don't  glue  the  pieces  together,  so  that  when 
the  mistress  of  the  establishment  picks  it  up,  and  it  falls  into  frag- 
ments, she  may  think  she  has  done  the  damage  herself.  When  you 
have  done  something  amiss,  own  up,  and  your  employer  will  commend, 
your  candor,  even  though  you  have  to  leave  the  sei-vice.  She  can. 
only  say,  as  one  employer  said  of  a  discharged  domestic :  "  Well,  she 
may  have  her  faults,  but  she  is  a  stranger  to  untruth." 

Finally,  men  often  lie  by  doing  nothing  at  all,  as  when  failure  to 
act  has  a  positive  meaning.  Thus  in  company  a  man  sits  down,  and 
assumes  an  air  of  gravity,  but  says  nothing  at  all,  or  at  most,  indulges 
in  monosyllabic  speech,  that  palms  off  his  shallow  self  for  a  man  of 
learning  and  wisdom.  "  Gravity  may  be  a  good  accompaniment  of 
wisdom,  but  it  is  a  very  poor  substitute  of  the  same."  If  a  man  can- 
not gain  the  good  graces  of  the  rich,  at  least,  he  will  never  consort: 
with  the  poor,  lest  he  might  himself  pass  for  a  man  of  poverty.  Or, 
what  is  worse  infinitely,  men  will  hold  silence  when  they  are  bound 
to  speak  for  the  honor  of  God  or  their  neighbor,  or  adopt  a  negative 
attitude  with  reference  to  customs,  usages,  and  opinions,  not  so  much 
to  be  considered  an  anti-Catholic,  as  to  have  it  conjectured  that  they 
are  not  members  of  Mother  Church.  This  is  a  sin  against  faith. 
"  He  that  denieth  Me  before  men,  him  will  I  deny  before  My  Father 
who  is  in  heaven." 

Thus  men  in  divers  ways  trample  on  truth  and  give  it  tortuous^ 
twists  which,  like  the  tricks  of  the  Indian  fakir,  bewilder  and  daze 
the  beholder.  I  will  not  inquire  the  causes  that  lead  to  them— they 
are  many  :  love  of  exaggeration,  false  politeness,  vanity,  pride,  de- 
sire to  create  a  sensation,  theft,  avarice,  pusillanimity,  and  many 
others.     I  will  only  observe  that  where  there  is  a  smart  statement- 


661 

which  may  be  said  to  have  a  turn  of  truth  in  it,  or  where  a  deed 
is  deftly  and  cleverly  done,  the  sinfulness  of  the  act  is  often  lost 
sight  of  in  admiration  of  the  adroitness  of  the  actor.  The  Devil  is 
•adroit;  he  is  an  astute  actor  and  he  is  the  father  of  lies.  There  is 
but  one  safe  rule  for  those  to  follow  who  wish  to  avoid  lying,  and 
yet  have  a  fatal  fondness  for  turns  and  twists  of  the  tongue.  It  is 
to  remember  that  falsehood  is  so  like  truth  that  a  wise  man  would 
well  not  to  trust  himself  too  close  to  it;  and  rather  than  attempting 
to  see  how  naiTowly  he  can  escape  falsehood,  he  should  strive  to  see 
how  near  he  can  keep  to  the  plain,  exact,  and  hteral  truth.  The  man 
who  adopts  the  first  principle  usually  ends  as  a  chronic  liar  and  the 
last  stage  of  his  dementia  is  to  believe  his  own  lies, 

"  Like  one 

Who  having  unto  truth  by  telling  of  it, 
Made  such  a  sinner  of  his  memory 
To  credit  his  own  lie." 

Oh !  if  there  is  any  one  thing  which,  more  than  another,  we  prize 
in  this  life ;  if  in  men's  relations  with  one  another  there  is  one  thing 
of  surpassing  excellence  and  inestimable  value,  it  is  truth.  If  there 
is  anything  that  could  be  done  by  wayward  man  to  atone  for  the 
numerous  follies  of  a  misspent  life,  it  would  be  his  absolute  refusal 
to  depart  one  iota  from  the  truth.  If  there  be  any  one  attribute  of 
Ood  higher  and  nobler  than  the  rest,  it  is  integrity  and  truth. 

In  conclusion,  then,  when  it  is  remembered  what  was  said  in  the 
beginning  of  the  nature  of  falsehood,  I  think  it  superfluous  to  urge 
you  to  avoid  lying.  I  know  that  a  He  is  abhorrent  to  your  soul;  but 
one  thing  I  will  ask  as  the  fruit  of  this  talk,  which  is,  that  you  make 
it  the  motto  of  your  lives  that  duplicity  deceives — but  deceives  your- 
:  selves.  In  the  long  run  double-dealing  will  be  detected,  and  the 
prospects,  even  of  this  life,  are  rudely  blighted.  Honesty  is,  indeed, 
the  best  policy;  but  of  all  dishonest  men,  who  so  merits,  as  he  often 
meets,  contempt  and  reproach  as  the  lily-livered  liar  ?  Be  men  and 
women  of  sincerity  and  straightforwardness.  Be  a  Cato  in  integrity. 
When  a  case  came  to  trial  where  the  testimony  of  two  was,  by  law, 
required,  and  but  one  appearing,  upon  whose  integrity  the  pleader 
insisted,  the  stern  judge  declared  that  he  would  not  accept  the  testi- 
mony of  one,  though  that  one  were  Cato.     What  a  tribute  in  public 


662 

court  to  the  honor  of  a  private  citizen  !     The  law  alone  could  stand 
against  the  word  of  Cato. 

Be  honest,  then,  for  the  sake  of  honesty;  be  truthful  for  the  sake 
of  truth.  "  Nothing  can  need  a  lie."  Be  sincere  and  simple  as  the 
dove,  for  He  that  enjoined  the  practice  knew  not  guile  and  abhorred 
deceit.  He  came  to  teach  truth,  and  He  invited  us  to  follow  Him, 
because  He  was  the  way,  the  truth,  and  the  life.  He  is  the  way, 
and  He  is  the  truth,  and  He  is  the  life;  for  the  way  is  to  truth,  and 
truth  is  the  life.  If  we  possess  the  truth  we  shall  possess  the  life, 
for  this  life  is  the  life  of  the  blessed,  the  happiness  of  heaven,  which 
is  the  possession  of  truth,  for  it  is  the  possession  of  God,  and  God  is 
truth.  That  truth  we  shall  not  possess  hereafter  if  we  do  not  now 
practice  it,  for  as  the  life  is  but  the  inception  of  that  which  is  to  be, 
as  this  is  so  shall  that  be  also.  Truth  is  a  precious  gem.  If  you 
possess  it  suffer  not  the  tarnish  of  deceit  to  bedim  its  lustre;  if  you 
possess  it  not,  find  it  quickly,  for  it  is  the  passport  to  the  palaces  of 
Paradise.  To  find  it  and  to  know  it  has  God  given  you  an  intellect,, 
and  implanted  in  your  soul  a  tireless  thirst  for  truth.  Employ  well 
the  time  God  grants  you  in  picking  up  the  pearls  of  truth  which 
abound  not  on  the  highways  of  worldly  action  and  endeavor,  but  in 
the  narrow  and  rugged  paths  of  sanctity  and  righteousness  which 
lead  to  our  heavenly  home.  Love  that  truth  as  above  aU  earthly 
treasures,  and  never  defile  your  lips  with  lying  or  your  souls  with 
deceit;  and  when  angel  hands  shall  unbar  for  you  the  gates  of  the 
everlasting  dwellings,  that  intellect  of  yours,  which  loved  the  living 
truth,  shall  see  and  enjoy  the  long-sought  object  of  its  powers,  and 
as  the  eternal  God  shaU  rise  from  His  throne  of  truth  to  greet  it 
with  the  kiss  of  heavenly  welcome,  the  ecstatic  soul  shall  cry,  "  Into- 
Thy  arms  I  fly,  O  Lord  God  of  truth." 


YI. 

"THE  TEACHER  OF  THE  NATIONS." 

DELIVERED  AT  THE  VESPER  SERVICE  OF  THE  DEDICATION  OF 
THE   SACRED  HEART  CHURCH,  BLOOMFIELD,  N.  J. 

"  All  power  is  given  to  Me  in  heaven  and  on  earth." — Matt,  xxviii.  18. 

How  sublime  are  the  words  of  our  divine  Kedeemer !  "  All  power 
is  given  to  Me  in  heaven  and  on  earth,"  says  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
to  His  Apostles.  If,  therefore,  Jesus  could,  without  arrogance,  as- 
cribe to  Himself  the  possession  of  all  power,  whether  in  heaven  or 
on  earth,  then  He  confessedly  is  God,  for  to  God  alone  belongs  the 
attribute  of  omnipotence.  God  alone  can  do  all  things,  and  "  nothing 
is  hard  or  impossible  to  Him." 

There  is  in  the  very  conception  of  power  something  that  wields 
an  awe-inspiring  influence  on  the  human  mind.  There  is  a  character 
of  sublimity  in  power  which  chains  the  boundless  imagination  of 
man,  hushes  into  silence  the  words  he  would  express  and  confounds 
the  very  thoughts  he  would  conceive.  The  natural  creation,  in  its 
manifestations  of  power,  is  replete  with  sublime  grandeur.  The 
mighty  torrent  dashing  down  the  mountain's  side;  the  roaring  cat- 
aract; the  tumultuous  and  loud-sounding  sea;  the  vast  volcano, 
spouting  forth  its  fearful  fires; — all  show  forth  a  power  which  pro- 
duces in  the  mind  of  man  that  elevation  of  thought  and  feeling 
which,  being  called  sublime,  is  better  imagined  than  portrayed. 
Violent  commotions  of  the  elements  strike  the  imagination  with  a 
sense  of  awful  grandeur  and  omnipotent  power.  The  lurid  light- 
nings which,  serpent-tongued,  shoot  along  the  sky,  and  the  terrific 
thunder  that  shakes  the  earth,  are  a  display  of  irresistible  force  and 
majestic  power.  Even  the  large  animals  are  capable  of  awakening, 
by  reason  of  their  power  and  majesty,  the  emotion  of  sublimity  in 


664 

the  beholder.  Thus  the  leviathan,  the  behemoth,  and  the  warhorse 
are  described  in  the  book  of  Job  (chs.  xxxix.  and  xl.). 

"  Wilt  thou  give  strength  to  the  horse  or  clothe  his  neck  with  neigh- 
ing ?  Wilt  thou  lift  him  up  like  the  locust  ?  The  glory  of  his  nos- 
trils is  terrible.  He  breaketh  up  the  ground  with  his  foot,  he 
pranceth  boldly,  and  he  goeth  forth  to  meet  armed  men.  He  de- 
spiseth  fear,  and  he  tumeth  not  his  back  to  the  sword.  Above  him 
shall  the  quiver  rattle,  and  the  spear  and  shield  shall  glitter.  Chaf- 
ing and  raging,  he  swalloweth  the  ground,  neither  doth  he  make  ac- 
count when  the  noise  of  the  trumpet  soundeth.  When  he  heareth 
the  trumpet  he  saith :  Ha !  ha  !  He  smelleth  the  battle  afar  off, 
the  encouraging  of  captains  and  the  shouting  of  the  army." 

Now,  our  conception  of  power  rises  in  proportion  to  its  vastness, 
duration,  and  extent.  If,  then,  the  powers  of  nature  awaken  in  the 
mind  of  man  so  strong  a  sense  of  the  sublime,  how  shall  not  the  om- 
nipotent power  of  God  inspire  us  ?  For  God  is  the  God  of  nature, 
and  there  is  no  power  but  from  God,  whether  in  the  moral  or  the 
material  order.  To  Him  is  "  benediction  and  honor  and  power  and 
glory  forever  and  forever." 

In  the  beginning  He  created  the  heaven  and  the  earth.  "  Ipse 
dixit,  et  facta  sunt;  Ipse  mandavit  et  creata  sunt."  He  said,  "Let 
there  be  light,"  and  there  was  light;  "let  the  earth  bring  forth  her 
fruits,"  and  it  was  so.  He  poised  the  foundations  of  the  earth;  He 
hung  the  firmament  with  stars;  He  set  the  suns  in  their  revolving 
spheres;  He  made  the  day  and  night;  He  ordered  the  changes  of 
the  seasons,  the  revolutions  of  the  years,  and  all  the  powers  and 
forces  and  energies  of  the  universe  of  things.  Every  atom  of  dust 
is  a  revelation  of  His  power.  He  made  us,  and  not  we  ourselves. 
"  Ipse  fecit  nos,  et  non  ipsi  nos."  Riding  upon  the  wings  of  the 
whirlwind,  He  spake  to  His  servant  Job:  "Where  wast  thou  when  I 
laid  the  foundations  of  the  earth; — when  the  morning  stars  praised 
Me  together,  and  all  the  sons  of  God  made  joyful  melody  ?  Who 
shut  up  the  sea  within  doors,  when  it  broke  forth,  issuing  out  of  the 
womb  ?  When  I  made  a  cloud  the  garment  thereof,  and  wrapped  it 
in  a  mist  as  in  swaddling  bands.  Who  gave  a  course  to  violent 
showers,  or  a  way  to  noisy  thunder  ?  That  it  should  fill  the  desert 
and  desolate  place  and  bring  forth  the  green  grass  ?  Who  is  the 
father  of  rain,  or  who  begot  the  drops  of  dew  ?   Out  of  whose  womb 


665 

came  the  ice,  and  the  frost  of  heaven  who  hath  gendered  it  ?  Wlio 
can  declare  the  order  of  the  heavens  or  who  can  make  the  harmony 
of  heaven  to  sleep  ?  Who  provided  food  for  the  raven,  when  her 
young  ones  cry  to  God,  wandering  about  because  they  had  no 
meat  ?  "  **  It  is  I,  the  Jehovah,  the  Creator,  and  first  cause  of  all 
things." 

But  Christ  is  God;  His  power  is  the  power  of  God.  Conjui'ed  by 
the  High-Priest  to  declare  His  identity,  Jesus  ajB&rmed  Himself  to 
be  God.  His  works,  His  words,  His  life — all  attest  His  divinity. 
In  describing  the  most  stupendous  miracles  the  record,  with  sublime 
simplicity,  says:  "Jesus  said  to  Lazarus,  '  Come  forth! '  and  he  that 
was  dead  came  forth."  To  the  widow's  son:  "  '  Young  man,  arise  ! ' 
and  he  that  was  dead  arose."  In  healing  the  most  frightful  of 
diseases.  He  said  to  the  stricken  leper:  "'Be  thou  made  clean ! ' 
and  immediately  his  leprosy  was  cleansed."  Tempest-tossed  upon 
the  bosom  of  the  deep.  His  timid  disciples  cry  for  help.  Jesus  says: 
"  *  Peace !  be  still,' "  and  the  boisterous  waters  are  hushed  into  a  calm. 
When  did  public  teacher  ever  compel  the  admiration  of  his  implac- 
able foes,  that  they  should  say  of  him,  as  the  Jews  of  Jesus,  "  Never 
has  man  spake  like  unto  this  Man."  Where  ,was  ever  the  consoler 
who  could  say,  as  this  divine  Physician  did,  to  all  the  countless  chil- 
dren of  sorrow  and  affliction:  "  Come  to  Me,  all  ye  that  labor,  and  I 
will  replenish  you."  "I  am  the  resurrection  and  the  life."  "He 
that  believeth  in  Me,  though  he  were  dead,  yet  shall  he  live."  "  I 
am  the  living  bread  that  came  down  from  heaven."  "  I  am  the  light 
of  the  world."      "  A.11  power  is  given  to  Me  in  heaven  and  on  earth." 

Yes,  Jesus  is  God;  His  power  is  the  power  of  God;  His  authority 
is  the  authority  of  God.  That  power  is  without  limitation  or  re- 
striction, without  measure  and  without  bounds. 

And  this  power  Jesus  confers  in  its  plenitude  upon  His  chosen 
Apostles.  "All  power  is  given  to  Me  in  heaven  and  on  earth;  go- 
ing, therefore,  teach  you  all  nations."  Observe  the  force  and  efficacy 
of  that  word  therefore.  It  is  not  mere  connective,  no  empty  exple- 
tive; but  it  has  what  is  called  a  causal  and  effective  signification.  It 
implies  a  concession  of  power  and  a  grant  of  authority.  All  power 
is  given  to  Me;  therefore,  because  of  the  universality  of  My  power,  I 
send  you.  My  power  I  give  to  you;  My  authority  I  transmit  to  you, 
unimpaired  and  undiminished,  for  the  great  purpose  for  which  I 


666 

came  down  upon  this  e£irth, — the  salvation  of  men  and  the  glory  of 
My  eternal  Father.  And  all  this  power  I  confer  upon  you  that  you 
may  extend  the  kingdom  of  God  upon  this  earth,  and  realize  in 
your  labors  the  designs  which  were  born  from  eternity.  "  As  the 
Father  hath  sent  Me,  so  I  commission  you,  that  the  work  which  I 
have  but  begun,  you  shall  carry  on  to  a  glorious  consummation  and 
fulfillment.  Go  forth,  then,  My  chosen  ones;  go  forth  on  your  mis- 
sion of  mercy  and  your  work  of  love;  go  forth  to  teach  all  nations 
beneath  the  circling  sun;  to  teach  them  all  things  wherewith  I  have 
charged  you  to  teach  them,  and  lo  !  I  am  with  you  all  days,  even  ta 
the  consummation  of  the  world." 

But  perchance,  some  nineteenth  century  caviller  will  say  to  the  min- 
ister of  Christ,  "Away,  thou  medieval  monk;  away,  thou  fossil  of  a 
dead  and  buried  past;  hast  thou  the  hardihood,  the  frigid  insolence 
to  arrogantly  claim  the  power  of  Jesus  Christ  ?  Who  art  thou  ?  Art 
thou  the  Christ  ?  Art  thou  then  equal  to  God  ?  Away !  thou  cant- 
ing hypocrite  and  mad  mountebank,  away ! "  To  this  imaginary 
foe  we  may  make  the  meek  reply :  "  Here  are  the  words  of  the  Gos- 
pel; we  have  not  written  them  and  we  cannot  blot  them  out;  we 
can  neither  diminish  their  force  nor  obscure  their  meaning.  *  All 
power  is  given  to  Me  and  I  give  it  to  you — to  you.  My  Apostles,  and 
to  your  successors  in  the  Church  of  God.' " 

Such,  then,  is  the  character  of  that  power  with  which  our  divine 
Eedeemer  clothed  His  Apostles  in  that  indefectible  Church,  of  which 
He  is  "  the  chief  corner-stone,"  and  they  are  the  unshaken  and  un- 
shakable foundation.  That  power  is  pre-eminently  greater  than 
any  other  upon  earth.  It  is, grand,  august;  it  is  sublime  in  its 
origin,  its  nature,  its  scope,  and  its  purpose.  It  is  universal.  It  is 
the  power  of  God.  "  All  power  is  given  to  Me."  "  As  the  Father 
hath  sent  Me,  I  also  send  you."  All  power  is  given  to  the  ministers 
of  the  Church  of  Jesus  Christ.  And  for  what  ?  To  teach  all  things. — 
And  to  whom  ?  To  all  nations,  all  tribes,  and  all  peoples,  of  what- 
ever race  and  land,  that  dwell  upon  God's  footstool.  And  how  long? 
All  days; — until  the  last  beat  of  the  pulse  of  time;  until  the  heavens, 
shall  be  shrivelled  like  a  scroll,  and  "  the  final  day,  the  day  of  ire, 
shall  Avrap  the  universe  in  fire  ";  until  the  last  soul  stamped  with  the 
image  of  God  shall  have  been  forever  gathered  to  the  bliss  of 
heaven,   or    consigned   to   the   misery   of  hell  ;    shall   have    been 


667 

securely  saved  or  hopelessly,  irretrievably,  and  irrevocably  lost 
and  damned. 

That  Church  shall  never  fail.  "I  am  with  you  all  days."  The 
ark  of  God  will  never  fall  nor  totter.  Its  walls  will  never  crumble ; 
its  foundations  never  move.  It  is  imperishable  and  indestructible, 
for  its  soul  is  endowed  with  the  immortality  of  God.  The  black 
beak  of  envy  may  hawk  and  tear  at  it;  the  fiery  bolts  of  fanaticism 
may  be  hurled  against  it;  the  cutting  shafts  of  calumny  may  be 
levelled  against  it;  all  the  minions  of  malice  and  the  powers  of  per- 
secution, come  hot  from  hell,  combined  or  severally,  shall  never  de- 
stroy, or  even  disturb  the  rock-built,  Christ-founded,  heaven-bom, 
and  hell-defying.  Catholic  Church  of  Jesus  Christ. 

To  His  Church,  her  heavenly  founder  gave  the  power  to  teach  all 
nations.  Well  has  she  fulfilled  her  divine  mission, — "  In  omnem 
terram  exivit  sonus  eorum;  et  in  fines  orbis  terrae  verba  eorum.'* 
For  where  is  the  land  into  which  her  voice  has  not  penetrated,  and 
where  is  the  nation  that  has  not  felt  her  benign  influence  ?  By  the 
zeal  and  devotion  of  her  missionaries,  the  name  of  Jesus  Chiist  has 
been  carried  into  every  quarter  of  the  globe,  from  the  rising  to  the 
setting  of  the  sun;  and  the  Cross  of  Christ  gleams  in  the  heavens 
where  Roman  eagles  never  flew,  for  the  kingdom  of  the  Nazarene 
has  been  spread  far  beyond  the  most  extensive  empires  of  antiquity. 
Nations  for  ages  buried  in  the  obscurity  of  paganism  and  the  dark- 
ness of  infidelity,  and  walking  "in  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of 
death,"  have  been  lifted  by  her  into  light.  She  showed  them  the 
day-star  of  deliverance,  and  led  them  forth,  the  ransomed  children 
of  God,  from  the  slavery  of  error  and  superstition,  to  be  sharers  in 
the  glorious  and  unfettered  liberty  of  the  Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ. 

Everywhere,  wherever  the  sun  shone,  or  the  moon  sent  down  her 
silvery  beams,  the  Cathohc  Church  has  planted  the  standard  of  the 
cross  and  preached  the  Gospel  of  the  crucified  Redeemer.  None 
were  so  low  that  her  humility  could  not  reach,  nor  so  exalted  that 
her  authority  could  not  claim.  Kings,  emperors,  potentates,  and 
princes;  serfs,  slaves,  and  captives,  were  alike  the  object  of  her  un- 
sleeping solicitude  and  tireless  concern.  And  her  anointed  sons,  in 
the  discharge  of  their  subhme  duty,  knew  no  danger,  and  feared  no 
peril.  "With  no  shield  or  buckler  but  that  of  faith,  no  sword  but 
that  of  the  Cross,  no  armor  but  the  livery  of  Christ,  they  went  forth 


668 

with  a  divine  enthusiasm  which  the  storms  of  no  earthly  opposition 
could  ever  quench,  to  conquer,  or  to  die,  for  Christ.  And  many  in- 
deed laid  down  their  lives  a  willing  holocaust  to  God.  The  green 
hillsides  of  Ireland  are  crimsoned  with  their  blood;  shed,  not  for 
the  propagation,  but  for  the  preservation  of  the  faith;  the  sacred 
land  of  Palestine  has  been  yet  more  sanctified  by  their  deaths;  and 
their  bones  lie  bleaching  on  many  a  far-off  shore.  Into  the  heart  of 
the  dark  continent;  into  the  jungles  of  Africa;  undeterred  by  fam- 
ine, pestilence,  or  fever,  they  went  to  face  the  ferocity  of  savage 
beasts,  or  the  fury  of  yet  more  savage  men.  On  the  frigid  steppes 
of  Siberia,  the  burning  sands  of  Arabia,  and  on  the  inhospitable 
mountains  of  China,  their  bodies  lie  entombed  by  thousands.  To 
America,  to  the  New  World  of  Columbus,  they  came  with  the  same 
undying  zeal  and  devotion.  Yes,  centuries  before  the  glorious  Gen- 
oese navigator  had  set  his  foot  upon  San  Salvador,  they  came  from 
the  cold  Northland  across  the  wide  waste  of  waters,  to  Greenland, 
and,  mayhap,  to  our  own  New  England  shores,  and  the  crozier  of 
Eric  flashed  upon  the  waters  of  Narragansett  Bay  as  his  followers 
raised  the  banners  of  the  cross  and  claimed  the  virgin  continent  for 
Christ.  And  many  a  day  before  the  Puritan,  who,  forgetting  that 
they  fled  the  whip  of  persecution  in  England,  scourged  his  fellow- 
exiles  with  scorpions,  in  America, — had  ever  thought  of  tolerance  or 
freedom,  they  proclaimed  the  sacred  and  God-like  principles  of  civil 
and  religious  liberty  in  happy  Maryland. 

And  where  is  the  comer  of  our  country  in  which  they  have  not 
stood  ?  Through  the  untrodden  solitudes  of  the  West,  and  to  the 
far-off  golden  slope  of  the  Pacific,  they  toiled  their  weary  way  to 
bear  the  blessing  of  light  and  hope  to  the  untutored  child  of  the 
forest,  the  mountain,  and  the  prairie.  And  to  secure  for  him  these 
blessings,  they  faced  unflinchingly  the  stake,  the  fagot,  the  scalping- 
knif e,  and  the  funeral  pyre.  Numbers  of  them  sank  silently  into  un- 
knov^m  and  nameless  graves.  The  mountain  breezes  chant  their 
requiem;  and  our  streams  and  rivers  sing  the  sacred  story  of  their 
lives.  In  the  temple  of  fame  no  tablet  is  inscribed  with  the  record 
of  their  deeds;  but  their  names  are  graven  in  letters  of  God's  purest 
gold,  along  the  walls  and  corridors  of  Paradise,  and  there  they  shall 
shine  fore  verm  ore. 

But  what  is  the  history  of  our  early  American  missions  but  the 


669 

history  of  the  Church  from  the  beginning,  only  crowned  with  more 
shining  success  ? 

Concealed  for  centuries  in  the  Catacombs,  whose  dark  recesses  af- 
forded her  a  shelter  from  the  cruel  storm  of  Roman  persecution,  she 
at  last  emerged  victorious  and  triumphant,  under  the  miraculous 
cross  of  Constantine.  She  won  the  reward  of  undefiled  conflicts. 
She  came  forth  from  the  crucible  of  suffering  with  her  sacred  brow 
begirt  with  laurels,  and  a  brighter  halo  of  heavenly  glory  shining 
lustrously  around  her  divine  form.  She  was  all  to  all,  that  she  might 
gain  all  to  Christ.  She  w^as  to  teach  all  nations,  and  even  the  stiff 
necks  of  her  own  persecutors  she  bent  to  the  sweet  yoke  of  Jesus 
Christ.  She  broke  down  all  opposition;  she  silenced  every  foe;  she 
scattered  to  the  winds  of  heaven  the  subtleties  of  pagan  sophistry, 
and  she  wrought  the  stupendous  miracle  of  changing  the  stony- 
hearted idolater  into  the  meek  and  humble  follower  of  the  meek  and 
humble  Jesus. 

But  trials  of  still  greater  severity  were  in  store  for  her.  The  oc- 
casion came  with  the  downfall  of  the  Roman  Empire. 

Out  of  the  storm-ridden  clouds  of  the  North  was  heard  the  fear- 
ful sound  of  the  barbarian  hordes  upon  the  march;  even  as  the 
thunder-storm  gathers  in  the  sky,  blackens  the  whole  heavens,  sweeps 
along  the  seashore,  and  hurls  itself  against  the  mountain-tops,  till  it 
breaks  in  destructive  fury  over  a  devoted  city;  even  so  did  the 
mighty  host  rise  like  a  cloud  in  the  north,  and  their  tramp  was  as  the 
sound  of  accumulated  thunders.  On  they  came,  gathering  force 
upon  the  way,  sweeping  ever}i;hing,  cinimbling  empires  and  destroy- 
ing kingdoms,  and  scattering  death  around  them,  till  they  hurled 
themselves,  with  all  their  concentrated  energy  and  fury,  against  the 
walls  of  proud,  imperial  Rome.  Was  the  city  doomed  when  doom 
seemed  so  inevitable  ?  No;  for  as  there  was  a  Leo  yesterday  to  stay 
the  hand  of  war  between  Spain  and  Germany,  so  there  was  a  Leo 
then,  who,  with  no  power  but  the  force  of  tnith,  caused  the  sword  to 
drop  from  the  nerveless  grasp  of  Attila  and  his  fiery  followers. 

Thus  has  the  Church  fulfilled  her  sublime  mission  to  teach  all  na- 
tions. Thus  has  she  proved  herself  to  be  the  divinely-appointed 
agent  of  Jesus  Christ  for  the  redemption  of  mankind.  Her  mission 
is  without  precedent  or  parallel  in  the  history  of  the  world.  O I 
grand  old  Mother  Church,  I  hail  thee  as  the  mother  of  the  nations. 


670 

and  the  mistress  of  the  earth.  I  hail  thee  with  an  unbounded  ad- 
miration, for  wheresoever  I  turn  my  eyes  I  behold  naught  that  is 
comparable  to  thee.  The  wide  earth  is  thy  footstool,  the  heavens 
thy  canopy,  eternity  thy  goal.  I  see  thee  speed,  like  the  eagle,  to  the 
uttermost  bounds  of  the  earth,  and  like  the  sun,  great  lamp  of  this 
green  globe,  darting  thy  bright  beams  of  truth  on  every  people,  on 
every  land.  I  see  thee,  once  a  little  grain  of  mustard-seed,  sown 
1,900  years  ago  by  the  hand  of  Jesus  Christ,  now  a  wide  and  spread- 
ing tree,  fair  and  goodly  to  behold,  whose  roots  are  in  the  earth, 
whose  boughs  are  in  the  heavens,  and  beneath  the  grateful  shade  of 
whose  wide-extended  branches  are  gathered  together  the  children  of 
untold  generations,  in  peace  and  harmony,  in  tranquillity  and  rest. 

Christ  gave  to  the  Church  the  commission  to  teach  all  nations,  but 
to  teach  them  what  ?  Not  indeed  the  number  of  the  fixed  stars,  nor 
of  the  green  blades  of  grass  upon  the  globe,  nor  yet  the  number  of 
the  sands  upon  the  seashores.  Not  to  build  railroads,  to  establish 
banks,  nor  to  found  political  associations.  Not  the  arts  and  sciences 
of  trade,  war,  commerce,  or  navigation.  And  yet  it  was  the  com- 
mission to  teach  all  things 

Is  there  any  restriction  here?  Yes;  there  is  one:  "All  things 
whatsoever  I  have  commanded  you."  And  what  have  I  commanded 
you  ?  Everything  that  pertains  to  the  science  of  salvation,  and  the 
spiritual  welfare  of  mankind.  Everything  that  points  the  way  to 
eternal  life  and  unveils  to  the  vision  of  men  the  beauty  and  glory  of 
the  kingdom  of  God.  The  words  which  fell  from  My  sacred  lips 
you  will  announce  to  every  nation;  and  all  things  which  the  Holy 
Ghost  shall  suggest  to  you,  you  shall  make  known  from  the  house- 
tops, and  shall  go  and  preach  the  Gospel  to  every  creature. 

And,  therefore,  the  Catholic  priest  comes  not  to  men  as  the  herald 
of  new-fangled  doctrines,  nor  as  the  apostle  of  his  own  opinions. 
He  comes  to  preach  the  Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  woe  betide  him 
if  he  preach  another.  He  carries  his  credentials  from  the  very  hand 
of  God,  and  he  speaks  as  one  having  authority.  The  shifting  and 
veering  winds  of  opinion  disturb  him  not,  for  he  has  a  divine  certi- 
tude for  what  he  teaches,  since  he  can  teach  nothing  which  is  not 
contained  in  the  deposit  of  faith  once  delivered  to  the  Saints,  which 
is  the  truth  of  Christ,  the  eternal  truth  of  God. 

And  this  is  the  truth  which  Catholics  shall  hear  expounded  from 


671 

the  altars  of  the  churches  which  their  loving  liberality  has  raised  to 
the  living  God.  Oh !  may  they  dilate  theii'  hearts  to  receive  it,  for 
it  is  the  truth  of  God,  and  when  they  shall  know  this  truth,  this 
truth  shall  make  them  free.  The  voice  of  Him  who  spake  as  never 
man  spake  before,  will  echo  within  their  churches'  walls,  through 
the  mouth  of  an  humble  minister,  with  a  no  less  uncertain  sound 
than  that  whose  sweet  tones  were  heard  upon  the  waters  of  Genes- 
areth  and  by  the  lake  of  Galilee.  Well  may  Catholics  rejoice  that 
they  have  crowned  so  many  noble  sites  in  our  land  with  temples 
dedicated  to  truth.  They  have  built  here  not  houses  of  their  own, 
but  houses  of  God;  they  labored  not  in  their  own  name,  but  in  the 
name  of  God,  and  they  constructed  not  by  their  own  power  or  au- 
thority, but  by  the  power  and  authority  of  Him  to  whom  was  given 
all  power  as  the  God  of  heaven  and  earth.  For  Him  is  every 
Catholic  church  built;  to  Him  is  it  dedicated;  in  His  honor  and 
glory  is  it  blessed.  And  in  it  shall  He  abide;  for  it  is  His  sacred 
dwelling-place.  In  it  shall  the  veiled  God  of  glory  tarry  in  the 
tabernacle  to  bring  balm  to  sin-sore  hearts,  to  heal  every  affliction, 
and  soothe  every  sorrow.  In  it  shall  the  clean  oblation,  foretold  by 
Malachy  of  old,  be  offered  up  to  the  Lamb  who  was  slain  from  the 
foundation  of  the  world.  In  it,  at  the  rising  of  the  sun  at  morning, 
shall  the  sweet  incense  of  prayer  and  adoration  ascend  to  Him  who 
sitteth  upon  high;  and  when  twihght's  close  shall  come,  in  it  shall 
resound  the  sacred  Vesper  song  whose  angel  echoes  awake  the  halls 
of  heaven.  In  it  flows  the  blood  of  the  Crucified  to  wash  away  the 
sins  of  hoary  age,  and  in  it  the  waters  of  regeneration  shall  purge 
the  brow  of  infancy  from  the  primal  stain  of  Adam.  In  it  the  co- 
pious cup  of  sacred  knowledge  shall  be  lifted  to  the  thirsty  lips  of 
man;  and  in  it  the  Holy  Ghost  Himself  shall  garnish  the  soul  with 
that  heavenly  wisdom  whose  lambent  light  shall  lead  men  on  through 
the  darkness  of  this  world  to  that  house  eternal  in  the  heavens, 
where  the  glory  of  God's  countenance  shall  burn  upon  them  with 
fadeless  splendor  fore  verm  ore. 

There  is,  then,  cause  for  jubilation  to  Catholics  in  this  land.  Well 
may  they  exult  in  the  work  which  they  have  so  successfully,  and 
with  many  sacrifices,  accomplished.  Every  temple  is  a  standing 
testimonial  of  their  zeal  and  devotion  and  their  love  of  that  holy  re- 
ligion which  Jesus  established  on  earth.     They  have  built  them  a 


672 

monument  more  enduring  than  brass, — a  monument  whicli,  when 
they  shall  have  passed  away  and  been  forgotten,  shall  tell  to  others 
how  they  lived  and  died  for  God.  Their  children,  and  their 
children's  children  shall  rise  up  and  call  them  blessed.  Those  who 
follow  them  shall  hold  their  memory  in  honor  and  benediction.  And 
every  child  of  error,  who,  attracted  by  the  lamp  of  truth  that  shines 
in  every  Holy  house,  may  enter  the  one,  true  fold,  shall  breathe 
benisons  upon  them.  Oh !  that  all  might  see  the  light  as  they  have 
seen  it; — that  only  light  which  enlighteneth  every  man  that  cometh 
into  this  world.  God  grant  that  all  may  see  it  soon.  May  God 
speed  the  coming  of  that  day  when  jangling  controversies  about 
creeds  shall  no  longer  disturb  men's  souls;  when  all  shall  kneel 
down  at  the  selfsame  altar  to  adore  the  selfsame  God;  when  the 
false  shall  give  place  to  the  true;  when  Christ  alone  shall  reign  over 
all  and  in  all;  and  when  all,  believing  in  the  same  Lord,  the  same 
faith,  and  the  same  divine  sacraments,  shall  be  gathered  together 
into  one  fold,  under  one  Shepherd,  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.     For, 

•*  Except  the  Lord  to  build  the  house  shall  deign, 
All  they  that  build  it,  labor  but  in  vain. 
Except  the  Lord  the  city  keep  from  harm, 
In  vain  the  watchmen  wake  and  give  alarm. 

"  In  vain  from  rest  we  haste  with  early  feet, 
And  late  return,  and  bread  of  sorrow  eat; 
Who  feeds  the  birds  that  neither  sow  nor  reap, 
To  His  beloved  giveth  in  their  sleep. 

"  If  Thou  but  work  in  us  and  strength  accord, 
To  will  and  do  of  Thy  good  pleasure,  Lord, 
The  setting  sun  will  with  its  glory  gild 
The  crowning  capstone  of  the  house  we  build. 

"  And  now  as  fades  the  daylight's  lingering  rays, 
We  rest  from  toil,  and  sing  our  evening  praise. 
All  through  the  night  Thy  vigil  o'er  us  keep, 
Oh!  Thou  who  giveth  Thy  beloved  sleep." 


YII. 
MONTH'S  MIND  OF  Y.  KEY.  JAMES  H.  CORRIGAN. 

PEEACHED  AT  ST,  MARY'S  CHURCH,  HOBOKEN,  N.  J. 

**  And  Moses,  the  servant  of  the  Lord,  died  there  in  the  land  of  Moab,  by 
the  commandment  of  the  Lord,  and  He  buried  him  in  the  valley  of  the  land  of 
Phogor,  and  no  man  hath  known  of  his  sepulchre  until  this  present  day.  And 
the  children  of  Israel  mourned  for  him  in  the  plains  of  Moab  thirty  days,  and 
the  days  of  their  mourning  in  which  they  mourned  for  Moses  were  ended." — 
Deut.  xxxiv.  5. 

Such,  my  brethren,  is  the  simple  language  which  describes  the 
close  of  the  career  of  one  who  .was  a  great  pontiff  to  his  people. 
Having  grown  gray  in  the  service  of  the  Lord,  the  great  leader's 
time  was  come,  and  at  the  ripe  age  of  one  hundred  and  twenty,  the 
silver  thread  was  sundered,  the  golden  bowl  was  broken,  and  the 
wine  of  life  was  wasted.  Full  of  years  and  full  of  honors,  Moses 
dropped  from  his  nerveless  grasp  the  staff  he  no  longer  needed,  as 
he  walked  into  the  high  mountain  of  the  Lord.  Thus  passed  away 
from  the  sight,  but  not  from  the  memory  of  his  people,  the  greatest 
prophet  ever  raised  up  by  God  in  his  divine  economy  for  the  re- 
demption of  his  people. 

It  were  a  puerile  purpose  to  seek  a  parallel  between  the  life  of  the 
illustrious  subject  of  the  inspired  text  and  that  of  the  simple  priest 
of  whom  fond  memory  bids  us  speak  to-day.  The  disproportion- 
ableness  of  the  themes  excludes  comparison.  But  if  we  concentrate 
our  attention  upon  the  mortuary  record  of  Moses,  we  shall  find 
therein  some  poiuts  pertinent  to  our  present  discourse,  and  those 
that  shall  engage  our  consideration  are,  first,  that  Moses  died  by  the 
command  of  God;  secondly,  that  the  children  of  Israel  mourned  for 
43 


674 

Moses  during  thirty  days;  and  finally,  that  at  the  expiration  of  that 
time  the  days  of  their  mourning  were  ended. 

Mark,  then,  that  Moses  died  by  God's  command.  If,  therefore, 
reason  and  experience  did  not  concur  to  produce  in  the  mind  of 
man  a  conviction  of  death's  certainty,  we  should  still  have  Scriptural 
warrant  to  ground  belief  in  our  mortality,  for  what  God  has  com- 
manded no  power  can  circumvent.  Yes,  my  brethren,  there  is  a 
Supreme  Being  who  holds  in  the  hollow  of  His  hand  all  the  lines  of 
our  existence  and  measures  out  to  every  man  the  number  of  his 
days.  In  the  beginning  He  first  fashioned  our  frame  from  the  com- 
mon clay,  and  when  the  period  by  Him  appointed  shall  have  elapsed, 
we  shall  return  to  the  silent  dust  whence  we  came  forth.  He  brings 
forth  in  their  course  the  succeeding  generations  of  men,  and  when 
the  time  is  come  for  their  entering  into  light  they  appear  upon  the 
stage  of  life,  and  having  performed  their  part.  He  changes  their 
countenance  and  sends  them  away. 

All  things  are  by  nature  subject  to  change  and  decay.  The  sun 
that  rolls  above  our  heads  wiU  doubtless  shine  for  centuries  unnum- 
bered and  unknown;  the  stars  that  stud  the  diadem  of  night  will 
sparkle  through  the  circling  years;  the  aged  mountains  will  lift  their 
hoary  heads  above  the  clouds  in  far  futurity,  and  the  rivers  will  run 
from  their  sources  to  the  sea  for  ages  yet  to  come;  by  the  powerful 
operation  of  the  Kuler  of  the  earth  the  current  of  events  shall  still 
flow  on,  and  new  orders  of  civilization  shall  be  born  and  decline; 
succeeding  generations  of  men  will  rise  and  fall,  and  like  the  bil- 
lows of  the  sea,  rolling  one  upon  the  other,  the  waves  of  human  his- 
tory shall  dash  against  the  shores  of  centuries  now  uncounted  and 
undreamed — but  all  must  fail  at  last,  all  must  fade  away,  and  by  the 
command  of  the  Sovereign  Disposer  of  events,  who  is  alone  change- 
less and  immutable,  all  shall  grow  old  as  a  garment,  and  as  a  vest- 
ure He  shall  change  them  and  they  shall  be  changed,  for  heaven  and 
earth  shall  pass  away  and  time  itself  shall  be  swallowed  in  eternity. 

Thus  agreeably  to  the  command  of  God,  there  is  a  limit  to  our 
life  beyond  which  it  may  not  be  extended,  and  perhaps  long  before 
it  reach  the  average  bounds,  the  thread  of  existence  may  be  cut 
asunder  by  that  invisible  hand,  which  is  stretched  over  all  the  in- 
habitants of  God's  widespread  creation.  But  whether  long  or  short, 
smooth  or  rugged,  the  path  marked  out  for  us  we  must  walk  unto 


675 

the  end.  The  veil  that  shuts  the  prospect  from  our  sight  is  woven 
by  the  hand  of  Him  that  called  us  into  life  in  the  wise  purpose  of 
His  beneficence;  that  we  may  be  ready  for  the  issue  whensoever  or 
howsoever  it  comes.  Of  this  truth,  the  obvious  consequence  is,  that 
we  must  wait  patiently  for  the  summons  that  shall  call  us  hence,  by 
a  cordial  consent  to  the  divine  appointments,  and  by  an  earnest 
effort  to  harmonize  our  minds  to  what  we  cannot  prevent  nor  pro- 
long, the  destiny  which  Heaven  has  fixed  for  all  the  sons  of  men. 

To  Hve  long  upon  the  earth  is  an  almost  general  desii'e  founded  upon 
the  shadowy  prospect  of  enjoyment,  which,  perchance,  would  never 
find  its  realization,  and  if  it  did  would  avail  nothing  for  eternity.  We 
might  live  so  long  that  existence  would  be  burdensome;  we  might 
live  to  feel  the  barb  of  sorrow  and  calamity  pierce  our  breast,  and 
find  distress  and  misery  overtake  us;  we  might  live  to  see  our  cher- 
ished hopes  blasted,  and  our  fine  resolves  become  fruitless,  vain,  or 
even  blameful  in  the  sight  of  God;  we  might  live  to  survive  all  that 
loved  us  and  aU  by  us  beloved,  till  we  stood  like  a  solitary  oak, 
withered  with  age  and  bowed  by  every  storm — yes,  you  might  live 
to  see  that  day  that  you  would  look  upon  death  as  a  seasonable  de- 
liverance from  the  ills  of  life,  and  then,  doubtless,  you  would  be  con- 
vinced that  the  whole  tenor  of  your  conduct  and  the  whole  drift  of 
your  existence  should  be  that  of  calm  submission  to  Him  who  has 
commanded  death,  who  has  fixed  the  day  and  the  hour  for  our  de- 
parture, and  "  who  knoweth,"  as  the  wise  man  said,  "  what  is  best 
for  man  in  this  life;  all  the  days  of  his  vain  life  which  he  spendeth 
as  a  shadow." 

All  men  die  by  God's  command.  Even  the  priest  must  die. 
Moses  was  a  priest  and  he  died.  Yes,  the  priest  must  die.  .  He  is 
no  honored  exception.  He  whose  office  it  is  to  minister  to  the  d}dng, 
himself  must  die  at  last.  He  who  stood  by  to  witness  the  final 
agony  of  so  many;  to  pour  the  balm  of  religious  consolation  into  the 
trembhng  soul;  to  feed  it  with  the  fat  of  corn,  the  milk  of  God's 
children,  and  the  bread  of  the  strong;  even  he  who  stands  by  to  usher 
human  souls  from  the  vestibule  of  time  into  the  vast  temple  of 
eternity — even  he  must  die.  If  the  dread  Archer  loves  a  shining 
mark,  why  should  he  not  pierce  the  priest  ? 

But  how  shaU  it  fare  with  him  in  the  dark  day  of  dissolution  ? 
Shall  he  be  bereft  of  that  support  and  consolation  which  he  adminis- 


676 

tered  to  others,  of  those  sacraments  wherewith  he  fortified  them,  or- 
shall  he  find  some  anointed  of  the  Lord  at  hand  to  shrive  and 
hansel  his  soul  for  a  home  in  heaven  ?  "Will  death  be  to  him  as  the 
king  of  terrors,  the  frowning  Rider  upon  the  grim,  pale  horse,  or 
will  it  come  as  the  Angel  of  Peace,  twining  the  olive  branch  abc»ut 
the  cypress,  and  scattering  flowers  upon  the  way  to  the  palmy  sum- 
mits of  Paradise  ? 

Has  he  died  daily  to  himself  ?  Has  he  walked  like  Enoch  and 
Moses  with  the  Lord;  has  he,  like  the  royal  prophet,  long  and  seri- 
ously considered  the  wondrous  ways  of  God,  and  meditated  on  His^. 
law  both  at  the  breaking  of  the  morning  and  the  declining  of  the 
day;  has  he  held  the  flowering  rod  of  Aaron  with  undefiled  hands, 
and  worn  the  threshold  of  the  doors  in  the  homes  of  the  poor,  the 
sick,  and  the  dying;  in  fine,  has  he  been  loyal  to  the  truth,  steadfast 
for  the  right,  and  shown  himself  the  uncompromising  champion  of 
the  Crucified,  a  devoted  and  self-denying  minister  of  the  Master  ? 
then,  indeed,  when  the  summons  comes  for  his  removal  he  can  cry 
with  him,  who  being  after  God's  own  heart,  always  feared  and  served 
the  Lord,  "  My  heart  is  ready,  O  !  my  God;  my  heart  is  ready."  I 
do  not  know  the  manner  of  our  friend's  death,  nor  have  any  of  the 
circumstances  been  detailed  to  me;  but  if  the  past  be  the  best  guar- 
antee for  the  future;  if  there  be  any  truth  in  the  accepted  axiom, 
that  as  men  live,  so  shall  they  die,  then  am  I  in  sober  truth  entitled 
to  affirm  that  Father  Corrigan's  death  was  the  death  of  the  just,  and' 
his  last  end  was  like  to  theirs. 

Observe,  once  more,  that  God  has  commanded  death.  Of  this,, 
the  natural  inference  is,  that  come  when  or  how  it  will,  death  can  be 
neither  untimely  nor  unseasonable.  Whether  in  life's  spring-time,  in 
manhood's  summer  glory,  or  in  the  frosty  winter  of  old  age,  the 
silent  Reaper  comes  to  cut  us  down,  he  comes  to  glean  the  harvest 
for  the  Master  of  the  vineyard,  and  garner  up  the  sheaves  for  the 
winnowing  of  eternity.  At  all  times  he  is  equally  the  messenger  of 
God.  One  hundred  and  twenty  years  had  waned  and  wasted  ere 
Moses  passed  from  human  sight  on  Phasga's  lonely  height,  and 
four  and  forty  only  when  the  simple  man  we  mourn  was — cut  off ! 
But  why  do  I  say  cut  off  ?  I  revoke  that  expression.  No  one  is  cut 
off  who  fulfills  the  term  by  God  appointed,  whether  long  or  short. 
The  true  end  of  life  is  to  know  the  life  that  never  ends,  and  this. 


677 

Itnowledge  is  acquired  in  one  day  as  well  as  in  a  thousand  years.  I 
'Cannot  join  that  threnody  of  tears  shed  for  the  early  lost.  The 
poetic  plaint  for  the  youthful  dead  bewails  the  broken  column  and 
the  fallen  flowers.  It  is  a  wail  for  those  who  have  gone  down  to  the 
silent  shore  in  brave  and  buoyant  youth,  their  ears  still  musical 
with  prophecy  of  high  achievement.  But,  Christian  mourner,  hold 
up  thy  head.  Be  patient  and  be  strong.  The  column  shall  yet  rise 
to  its  destined  height  in  the  temple  of  the  New  Jerusalem,  and  the 
faded  bud  shall  open  to  disclose  the  rose,  to  bloom  as  an  immortal 
■essence  among  the  spirits  of  the  blessed.  All  power  is  from  God. 
'Tis  He  that  governs  the  world.  He  gives  life  when  He  listeth,  and 
thus  He  taketh  it  away.  Has  not  the  Maker  the  right  to  dispose  of 
His  work  in  a  manner  agreeable  to  His  pleasure  ?  And  is  not  His 
will  most  wise  ?  He  has  taken  away  our  friend  in  the  morning- 
time  of  manhood,  and  in  the  flower  of  his  priesthood,  but  he  is  a 
priest  forever  according  to  the  order  of  Melchizedek,  and  the  Lamb 
that  was  slain  from  the  foundation  of  the  world,  he  shall  continue 
to  offer  to  the  eternal  Father  all  through  the  everlasting  years  of 
God.  The  Lord  hath  given  and  the  Lord  hath  taken  away,  blessed 
be  the  name  of  the  Lord.  God  has  commanded  death,  hence  to  die 
is  a  duty,  for  what  is  duty  but  what  God  commands?  With  glad- 
ness and  with  joy,  then,  should  the  priest  prepare  to  go  when  his 
call  shall  come,  for  in  death,  as  in  life,  he  is  the  teacher  of  his  peo- 
ple; and, 

"  As  the  bird  each  fond  endearment  tries, 
To  tempt  its  new-fledged  offspring  to  the  skies," 

so  shall  he  lead  the  way  by  the  shining  example  of  his  own  death- 
bed. 

The  Israelites,  as  you  have  noticed,  mourned  for  Moses,  their 
leader  in  the  Lord,  for  thirty  days.  Behold  the  ancient  precedent 
for  our  demeanor  since  our  brother's  death.  This  example  legiti- 
mizes and  consecrates  our  sorrow.  The  Jews  were  a  pensive  people 
and  prone  to  melancholy,  as  their  conduct  by  Babylon's  sad  waters 
plainly  shows;  but  why  should  they  not  mourn  for  Moses?  He  was 
their  leader,  their  prophet,  and,  in  some  sense,  their  Saviour.  He 
led  them  forth  from  bondage;  he  smote  the  rock  to  slake  their 
ihirst;  he  invoked  the  manna  of  heaven  to  appease  their  hunger;  he 


678 

meekly  bore  their  ingratitude  and  impatience,  and  in  toil  and  pri- 
vation, in  suffering  and  tears,  he  conducted  them  upon  their  peril- 
ous journey  to  the  promised  land,  though  his  aching  eyes  should 
never  gaze  upon  its  running  sweetness.  And  thus  his  people  and 
we  his  fellow-priests  mourn  the  man  whose  memory  we  recall  to-day. 

My  brethren,  the  priest  is  a  leader.  As  a  star  in  the  night  he 
goes  before  his  people,  to  lead  them  from  the  home  of  sin's  heavy 
bondage  into  the  promised  land  of  Gospel  liberty.  The  priest  is  a 
father,  for  by  spiritual  paternity  he  generates  souls  to  God.  How 
much  more  a  father  is  he  who  is  a  father  of  fathers,  because  he 
procreated  priests,  soldiers  for  God's  sanctuary,  in  the  seminary 
and  the  college  over  which  he  presided  so  fruitfully  and  so  long. 
Some  of  us  may  call  him  father;  we  were  with  him  there,  and  we 
know  now  what  reason  there  is  to  lament.  Ah !  the  heart  knows  that 
it  may  sorrow.  Rachel  was  not  chid  when  she  wept  for  her  children. 
The  stillness  commanded  is  not  that  of  apathy  or  forced  acquiescence; 
"it  is  a  patient  waiting  for  the  promised  crown,  while  bending 
under  the  weight  of  the  predicted  cross."  What  law,  or  what  senti- 
ment, shall  restrain  us  from  wearing  our  chaplet  of  flowers  and 
twining  it  lovingly  about  the  memory  of  the  dead?  What  instincts 
or  feelings  shall  forbid  his  little  flock  in  Christ  from  dropping  the 
tear  of  silent  recollection  upon  the  turf  above  his  tomb  ? 

And  why  should  not  the  people  lament  their  beloved  priest  ?  For 
their  sake  he  left  father  and  mother,  severed  every  tie  of  blood  and 
kindred,  put  his  hand  to  the  plough  and  turned  not  back  again.  He 
lives  for  them  and  they  in  him.  Between  them  and  God  no  one  can 
stand  but  him.  He  is  the  agent  of  God  to  regenerate  the  soul,  upon 
its  first  entrance  into  life,  in  guiding  it  upon  its  earthly  career,  in 
strengthening  and  consoling  it,  when  it  goes  before  its  God.  For 
his  flock  he  prays,  as  Christ  prayed  for  His  brethren:  "  Holy  Father, 
keep  them  in  Thy  name.  And  those  whom  Thou  hast  given  Me  I 
have  kept,  and  none  of  them  is  lost,  but  the  son  of  perdition."  In 
all  trials  and  necessities,  he  is  their  "  guide,  philosopher,  and  friend." 
Against  the  stormy  wind  and  tempest  he  is  their  stay  and  support, 
and  in  the  wilderness  of  their  affliction  he  seeks  to  spread  their 
table,  and  make  their  cup  to  overflow.  And  he  is  always  true. 
Others  may  play  them  false,  but  he  is  true  as  steel.  He  is  true  to> 
them  in  toils  and  stripes,  if  they  come;  in  sunshine  and  in  storm,  in 


679 

adversity  and  prosperity;  in  life  and  death  he  has  no  thought  but  to 
serve  and  to  save  them.  And  when  he  is  torn  from  them  by  the 
dividing  stroke  of  death,  every  fountain  of  feehng  is  profoundly 
stirred,  the  tempest  of  emotion  oversweeps  their  souls,  and  the  cry 
of  grief  breaks  forth  in  fullness  from  sorrow-stricken  hearts.  A 
friend,  yea,  more  than  a  friend,  a  father,  has  gone  out  from  among 
them,  and  now  they  know  his  place  no  more.  But  is  there  no  balm 
in  Gilead,  no  physician  there  ?  Yes,  my  brethren,  for  afflictions  are 
the  same  to  the  soul  as  the  plough  to  the  fallow  ground,  the  prun- 
ing-knife  to  the  vine,  and  the  furnace  to  the  gold. 

Therefore,  I  would  ask  you,  finally,  to  remark,  that  when  the  chil- 
dren of  Israel  had  mourned  for  Moses  thirty  days,  the  time  of  their 
mourning  was  ended.  Had  they  consigned  his  memory  to  the  Le- 
thean lake,  had  they  forgotten  him?  No;  but  they  tempered  their 
sorrow  and  moderated  their  grief.  Shall  we  forget  our  dead — blot 
out  the  memory  of  our  priestly  dead  ?  No;  for 
"  Even  the  grave  is  a  bond  of  union; 

Spirit  and  spirit  best  hold  communion; 

Seen  through  faith  by  the  inward  eye, 

It  is  after  death  they  are  truly  nigh." 

The  Angel  of  Death,  as  he  bore  the  loved  one  away,  opened  the 
heavens  in  his  flight,  and  now  the  eye  of  faith  penetrates  and  the 
heart  of  faith  lives  in  that  world  of  spirits  beyond  this  present  king- 
dom. On  prayer  and  communion,  the  pinions  of  the  soul,  it  soars 
into  the  radiant  and  immortal  presence  of  the  lost  one  whom  it  loves. 
And  now  the  future  and  eternity  are  brought  close  around  us,  be- 
cause our  friend  is  there;  there  to  plead  for  us,  there  to  pray  for  us, 
there  to  greet  and  welcome  us  upon  some  bright  summer's  morning, 
when  we  shall  clasp  his  hand  in  the  unbroken  friendship  of  eternity. 

Why  do  I  thank  him  then  ?  I  shall  give  some  reasons.  I  am  not  here 
to  pronounce  his  panegyric,  nor  to  indulge  high-sounding  praise. 
De  mortuis  nil  nisi  bonum,  says  the  poet;  de  mortuis  nil  nisi  verum, 
says  your  servant.  Yet,  pardon  me  a  word;  let  me  cast  a  few  poor 
flowers  of  fond  remembrance  on  his  tomb. 

For  seven  years  I  dwelt  under  the  same  roof,  and  for  four  I  had 
to  do  with  him  in  an  official  capacity,  he  as  President  and  I  as  Pre- 
fect, and  I  think  I  took  some  measure  of  the  man.  He  was  a  man 
in  some  of  the  finest  attributes  of  manhood.     He  was  "  Magnis  nat- 


680 

urae  donis  instructus,"  gifted  with  a  fair  share  of  genius  and  a  large 
fund  of  geniality.  He  had  a  liberal  stock  of  homely  sense,  quick  in- 
tuitions, lively  perceptions,  and  a  large  and  wide  sympathy  with  hu- 
man nature.  He  never  bore  resentment,  nor  cherished  the  memory 
of  a  wrong.  He  was  generous  to  a  fault,  and  kind  to  a  rarity  among  men. 

As  a  priest,  he  was  the  personification  of  the  priestly  life.  His 
piety  was  as  real  as  it  was  unostentatious,  and  I  need  not  tell  the 
students  of  Seton  Hall  how  devoutly  he  said  the  Holy  Mass,  and  I 
confess  I  was  always  inspired  with  a  sense  of  awe  when  he  per- 
formed the  sublime  act  of  consecration.  He  filled  the  chalice  almost 
to  the  brim,  assigning  as  his  pious  reason,  that  he  desired  a  more 
copious  libation  of  our  Lord's  precious  blood. 

Though  he  had  no  mean  expectations  from  his  future  in  the  world, 
he  made  no  hesitation  in  choosing  his  life-work  in  the  sanctuary.  His 
future,  and  his  social  status,  might  have  raised  him  to  no  inconspic- 
uous place  among  his  fellows;  but  in  what  would  he  be  better  than 
he  is  now  ?  But  by  voluntary  preference  and  choice  he  became  a 
priest,  that  he  might,  for  his  heavenly  Father's  sake,  let  his  light 
shine  before  men,  and  be  as  a  lamp  unto  their  feet.  And  his  good  old 
Irish  father,  and  his  Irish  mother,  gave  him  up  without  a  pang  to  the 
lofty  life-work  to  which  he  consecrated  the  strength  of  his  arm,  the 
fire  of  his  intellect,  and  the  energies  of  his  being. 

And  he  was  no  hireling  shepherd  of  the  flock.  "  The  end  of  man," 
says  Manning,  "  is  the  glory  of  God,  and  the  end  of  the  priest  is' the 
highest  glory  of  God."  And  no  man  who  knew  him  can  gainsay 
that  this  highest  glory  was  the  goal  of  all  his  aspirations  and  en- 
deavors, according  to  the  measure  of  his  powers.  The  good  Shep- 
herd said  of  His  true  followers:  "  My  sheep  hear  My  voice  and  they 
follow  Me,  and  I  give  them  life  everlasting;  and  they  shall  not  per- 
ish forever,  and  no  man  shall  pluck  them  out  of  My  hand."  Father 
James  Corrigan  had  the  primacy  of  Abel,  the  patriarchate  of  Abra- 
ham, the  government  of  Noe,  the  order  of  Melchizedek,  the  dignity 
of  Aaron,  the  authority  of  Moses,  the  power  of  Peter,  and  the  unc- 
tion of  Christ,  and  he  used  them  well,  according  to  the  limited  years 
God  granted  him,  and  hence,  in  that  brief  space,  he  attained  unto 
the  perfection  of  Samuel.  "  He  walked  in  true  humility;  he  loved  in 
simple  obedience;  he  stood  in  the  ways  of  truth";  he  was,  in  the 
fullness  of  the  term,  a  meek  and  humble  follower  of  the  meek  and 


681 

humble  Jesus.  He  loved  the  Church,  and  he  loved  God's  altar. 
With  the  prophet  he  could  cry:  "  How  spacious  are  Thy  courts,  O 
Lord.  I  have  loved,  O  Lord,  the  beauty  of  Thy  house  and  the  place 
where  Thy  glory  dwelleth.  How  lovely  are  Thy  tabernacles,  O  Lord 
God  of  hosts;  how  my  soul  panteth  and  longeth  to  come  thither." 
The  wish  is  now  gratified.  He  is  at  rest;  eternal  light  shines 
upon  him.  But  lest,  like  nearly  all  the  sons  of  frail  humanity,  he 
have  to  pay  the  penalty  for  the  faults  done  in  the  flesh,  we  wiU  pray 
for  his  release  from  banishment  and  exile,  that  he  may  soon  gaze 
into  the  meek  and  holy  eyes  of  Jesus;  may  put  on  the  bright  gar- 
ments of  the  glory  of  salvation;  may  wear  the  crown  woven  by  angel 
hands,  and  sing  the  songs  that  angels  sing,  and  hear  the  sons  of  God 
make  joyful  melody  in  the  mansions  of  immortality  and  peace. 

A  little  while  and  we  shall  see  him  ;  but  for  the  present  he  is  not 
here. 

"  He  is  gone  to  the  slumber  that  knows  no  waking, 
Till  the  loud  requiem  of  the  world  shall  swell; 
Gone  where  no  sound  his  still  repose  is  breaking, 
In  a  lone  mansion  through  long  years  to  dwell." 

Yes,  his  large  and  sympathetic  heart  has  ceased  to  beat;  that  warm 
and  sensitive  soul  has  fled  its  earthly  habitation,  and  not  more  than  a 
month  ago  the  mortal  part  of  him  we  knew  so  well  was  stamped 
with  death's  dark  signet  and  his  cold  and  icy  seal.  Tearfully  and 
sorrowfully,  but  gently  and  lovingly,  they  bore  him  away.  Under- 
neath the  sod,  low-lying,  doth  the  body  rest.  The  autumn  winds 
shall  scatter  leafy  mantles  on  his  quiet  couch,  and  when  the  winter  is 
over  and  gone,  and  the  flowers  appear  in  our  land,  the  gentle  voices 
of  the  spring  will  make  music  nigh  his  grassy  dell,  and  the  pale  snow- 
drop and  lowly  violet,  true  types  of  his  humility,  will  bloom  in  fra- 
grant loveliness  above  his  moss- garlanded  grave. 

Yes,  there  shall  live  his  body,  but  the  soul  shall  be  with  G^d.  The 
bright  tabernacles  of  God  shall  be  opened  to  his  eyes,  his  ears  shall 
with  sounds  seraphic  ring.  Death  then  shall  be  absorbed  in  triumph, 
swallowed  up  in  victory,  and  neither  pain  nor  sorrow  shall  afflict  him 
more,  for  all  these  former  things  shall  be  passed  away  forever.  Such 
is  our  blessed  hope.  "  For  I  would  not  have  you  ignorant,  brethren, 
concerning  them  that  are  asleep,  that  we  sorrow  not  as  those  who 
have  no  hope,  for  if  we  believe  that  Jesus  died  and  rose  again, 
so  all  them  who  fall  asleep  in  Jesus  will  God  bring  with  Him  on  the 
last  day." 


VIII. 
THE  BLESSED  EUCHARIST. 

THE    OCCASION    OF  THE  FORTY  HO 
TION,  AT  ST.  MICHAEL'S  CHURCH,  JERSEY  CITY. 

"  He  that  eateth  Me,  the  same  shall  live  by  Me  " — John  vi. 

We  hear  much  in  these  days  of  the  efforts  some  men  are  making 
to  get  God  out  of  the  world,  and  number  Him  among  the  many 
myths  of  the  human  mind.  But  as  long  as  God  is  God,  and  as  long 
as  man  is  man,  man  can  never  get  away  from  God,  nor,  what  is  the 
same  thing,  get  God  out  of  the  world,  by  remanding  Him  to  the 
regions  of  non-existence.  Absolute  separation  from  God  is  for  man 
damnation,  or  annihilation. 

God  is  all  in  all  to  man.  Man,  in  all  that  he  has,  comes  from 
God;  in  all  that  he  is,  or  ever  will  be,  depends  on  God;  he  gets  hia 
being  from  God,  leans  for  his  life  on  God,  and  can  never  be  wholly 
weaned  away  from  God.  Hence,  man's  life  is  a  single  sigh  for  God; 
a  wish  to  be  near  God,  to  be  with  God,  and  to  live  by  the  life  of 
God.  This  same  desire  it  was,  which,  misdirected,  led  Adam  into 
sin,  for  he  longed  to  be  like  to  God.  If  man  sounds  the  depths  of 
his  own  consciousness  and  hearkens  with  the  ear  of  the  soul  to  the 
movements  within,  he  will  hear  the  strivings  of  a  spirit  working  its 
way  with  eager  energy  up  to  God.  Reason,  rightly  tested,  is  but  a 
revelation  of  the  same  truth.  For  a  short  span  man  may  glut  his 
thirst  for  good  with  the  poor  substitute  of  sin,  but  soon  the  famished 
soul  hungers  after  God  with  a  heightened  hunger.  Man's  stubborn 
will  may  force  reason  to  fancy  that  he  craves  not  God,  but  the  beat- 
ings of  his  hollow  heart  soon  betray  the  lie  on  the  lip  of  the  intellect. 

Wherefore,  it  appears  that  it  is  not  natural  for  man  to  be  away 


from  God,  apart  from  God;  it  is  man's  normal  state  to  be  in  close 
relation  with  God.  Even  in  the  natural  order  man  feels  God's  touch 
upon  him;  God's  breath  upon  his  cheek.  In  the  starry  sky  he  sees 
his  Maker's  aspect;  His  movement  in  the  rolling  storm;  His  majesty 
in  the  lurid  Hghtning.  But  all  this,  much  though  it  be,  is  not  yet 
enough;  man  longs  for  plainer  tokens  of  his  Creator.  He  wants,  not 
so  much  to  argue  the  existence  of  the  sun  by  looking  at  its  light 
through  a  reflecting  medium,  as  to  lift  his  eyes  aloft  and  see  the  sun 
itself  in  all  its  gorgeous  glory.  No  vague,  undefined  appearance  is 
enough  for  man;  he  longs  for  the  real,  sensible  presence  of  his 
Maker  and  his  God.  Like  Thomas  of  old,  incredulous  creatui-e,  he 
would  fix  his  finger  in  the  nail  prints,  his  hand  in  the  sacred  side  to 
identify  his  God.  Nor  is  this  craving  for  the  closer  vision  of  God 
bom  of  Christianity;  it  is  coeval  with  man's  creation.  The  prophets 
of  old  cried  out,  "Show  us  Thy  face,  O  Lord,  and  we  shall  be 
saved."  And  Moses  meekly  pleaded  :  "  O  Lord,  show  me  Thy 
glory."  And  all  the  dark  errors  of  the  ages — what  are  they  but  the 
sad  and  solemn  story  of  men  struggling  to  get  God  at  any  hazard, 
and  finding  only  a  graven  thing,  because  of  their  unwillingness  to 
plod  that  weary  way  which  was  pointed  out  as  the  only  right  road 
to  God's  dwelling.  And  thus  it  was  that  some  bent  down  before  the 
golden  calf  and  burned  incense  to  Baal,  while  others  built  big 
temples,  as  in  Athens,  to  the  "  Unknown  God."  Li  remoter  days 
they  found  God  in  fire,  as  well  as  in  plants  and  stones,  and  in  these 
newer  times  reason  reigns  a  deity  for  some,  and  others  in  worship 
nod  before  great  Nature's  shrine.  But,  thanks  to  God,  the  Author 
of  this  void  in  our  souls,  man  cannot  rest  content  with  any  shadowy 
semblance  or  untruth;  he  must  have  close  and  sensibly  present  a  gen- 
uine God,  or  his  life  will  be  through  all  but  a  dark  and  dismal  death. 
Man,  then,  craves  the  company  of  God  with  an  undying  yearning. 
But  does  God  contemn  this  heart-wrung  cry  of  man  ?  No,  He  does 
not;  He  cannot.  No  again,  for  there  exists  a  void  in  the  heart  and 
God  must  fiU  it  up,  since  He  Himself  is  the  Author  of  that  vacancy. 
He  does  not  confer  a  faculty  without  an  object,  nor  implant  in  our 
nature  an  impulse  for  the  impossible  and  unattainable.  That  would 
be  to  make  a  mockery  of  man.  He  made  man  to  seek  Him,  and 
shall  He  not  show  Himself  to  man  ?  Assuredly  He  shall.  Let  us 
then  look  at  the  history  of  God's  dealings  with  man. 


684 

In  the  light  of  this  history  we  discover  God  ever  giving  more 
knowledge  of  Himself  to  man;  making  plainer  and  more  perfect  the 
plan  of  union  between  Himself  and  man.  The  louder  human  cries, 
the  more  ready  the  response.  At  creation's  dawn,  when  the  holy 
light  of  heaven  Ht  up  the  youthful  universe,  the  father  of  the  human 
family  saw  clearly  his  Creator  in  the  wonderful  works  of  God's 
creation.  But  more  than  this — God  spoke  to  Adam,  for  when  he 
sinned  he  heard  God's  voice  and  was  afraid.  To  the  patriarchs  and 
prophets  God,  at  various  times,  revealed  Himself,  and  \fy  His  angel 
messengers  He  often  made  known  to  man  the  behests  of  His  divine 
will.  Now  He  appears  as  a  pillar  of  fire  to  guide  His  groping  people 
on  their  weary  way;  and  again  He  is  seen  in  the  lustrous  light  of 
the  Shekinah,  as  it  shone  forth  from  the  tabernacle.  But  is  this  all  ? 
No,  for  who  can  fathom  the  depth  and  strength  of  the  limitless  love 
of  God  for  man  ?  When  man  forsook  the  ways  of  God,  God  might 
have  silenced  his  wild  wail  with  a  flood  of  fire.  But  this  He  would 
not  do.  "  Can  a  woman  " — thus  God  reasons  with  Himself — "  can 
a  woman  forget  her  offspring  so  as  not  to  have  pity  on  the  son  of 
her  womb  *?  And  if  she  should  forget,  yet  will  I  not  forget  you.  " 
And  so,  in  answer  to  that  quenchless  craving  for  the  visible  presence 
of  God,  He  empties  Himself  of  all  His  supernal  splendor,  which  we 
could  not  see  and  live,  and  descends  to  earth  to  dwell  as  a  man  in 
the  midst  of  men.  It  was  not  enough  to  show  Himself  to  man  by 
signs  and  by  appearances;  not  enough  to  hold  sweet  converse  as 
from  afar  with  the  children  of  men.  No;  He  must  needs  strike 
every  human  sense  with  His  personal  presence.  Hence,  He  clothes 
Himself  with  our  frail  humanity,  and  He  walks  forth  to  be  seen  by 
men,  to  be  felt  by  men.     In  short.  He  becomes  Himself  a  man. 

But  surely  for  God  to  become  man  is  all  that  even  the  infinite 
genius  and  love  of  God  can  suggest  to  satisfy  the  hunger  of  the 
heart  for  its  Creator's  presence.     The  climax  is  yet  to  come. 

Union  of  the  soul  with  God  is  the  groundwork  of  the  whole 
scheme  of  Kedemption.  But  what  was  man  to  do  when  Christ  had 
gone  to  dwell  with  His  Father  in  the  Father's  kingdom  ?  Was  He 
to  leave  His  children  orphans  ?  No;  that  could  never  be.  He  might 
have  paid  the  price  of  our  Kedemption  and  then  left  us  to  apply  the 
fruits  in  our  own  way.  It  is,  perhaps,  true  that  our  desired  union 
might  be  cleferred  till  man  could  meet  his  Maker  face  to  face  in 


685 

glory.  But  God's  love  can  brook  no  delay;  He  longs  for  present, 
immediate  union.  The  difference  between  the  old  dis]3ensation 
and  the  new  is,  that  Jesus  was  promised  in  the  one  and  present  in 
the  other.  Yes,  He  must  be  present,  for  the  longing  of  the  soul,  the 
void  of  the  heart,  still  exists,  and  God  must  fill  it  up  by  a  union 
with  Himself  of  the  closest  character.  But  what  else  can  His  yearn- 
ing tenderness  suggest  to  cement  our  union  and  make  heaii;  melt 
into  heart.  He  has  already  revealed  Himself  to  man  by  creation, 
and  man  has  forgotten  Him;  He  has  spoken  to  His  creatiu'e  by  His 
own  sacred  voice,  and  that  creature  would  not  hearken  unto  Him; 
and,  finally.  He  stood  face  to  face  with  man  in  the  flesh,  and  man  con- 
demned Him  to  die  on  the  wood  of  the  cross.  But  this  is  not  the 
limit  of  eternal  love,  for  having  loved  His  own  who  were  in  the 
world.  He  loved  them  to  the  end. 

Behold,  then,  dear  Christians,  the  last  sublime  revelation  of  God 
to  man;  this  last  and  most  perfect  performance  in  the  plan  of  union, 
to  effect  which  Jesus  came  down  on  earth;  this  last,  this  best  and 
most  tender  testimonial  of  the  burning,  living  love  of  God  for  man. 
See  now  how  Jesus  Christ  shows  Himself  to  us  by  faith,  but  no 
longer  from  afar,  for  He  is  just  within  the  reach  of  the  s^iallest 
child  among  us  all.  See  now,  how  the  good  God  gives  Himself  to 
us  in  answer  to  the  creatures'  craving  cry.  Look  now,  He  gives  to 
us  the  substance  of  His  body  to  be  our  food,  the  essence  of  His 
blood  to  be  our  drink,  that  we  may  be  one  with  Him,  even  as  He 
and  the  Father  are  one;  that  we  may,  as  it  were,  cast  off  our  mortal 
coil  and  become  as  gods;  and  that,  finally,  we  no  longer  "lead  here 
a  poor  life,"  but  that  we  may  live  by  the  life  of  Christ  our  Lord,  for 
He  Himself  avers  the  truth,  declaring  most  solemnly,  "  He  that  eat- 
eth  Me,  the  same  shall  live  by  Me."  In  one  word,  dear  brethren, 
behold  how  and  for  what  reasons  Jesus  Christ  instituted  the  most 
holy  Sacrament  of  His  body  and  blood.  "  It  was  a  great  thing,"  ex- 
claims the  Apostle,  "  it  was  a  great  thing  that  He  became  our  fellow; 
a  greater  that  He  became  the  price  of  our  salvation;  but  the  great- 
est of  aU  to  give  Himself  to  us  in  our  food." 

Let  us  now  see  how  the  institution  of  the  most  blessed  Sacrament 
is  God's  most  perfect  answer  to  the  cry  of  mankind  for  the  sensible 
presence  of  the  Creator. 

First  of  all,  it  is  the  most  perfect  answer,  because  God  chose  it 


Ood,  dear  friends,  is  the  all-wise  as  He  is  the  all-loving  Father. 
Hence  on  the  night  of  that  sublime  scene  in  the  coenacle  of  Jerusa- 
lem, seeing  with  the  eyes  of  His  mind  all  the  myriads  of  souls  that 
would  exist  to  the  end  of  time,  and  knowing  to  exactness  the  needs 
and  wishes  of  every  single  one  among  them  all;  and  loving  every 
one  with  an  everlasting  love,  the  great  God  of  love  could  not  but 
choose  for  man  that  which  would  best  and  most  fully  meet  the 
measui-e  of  man's  miseries,  and  satisfy  the  longings  of  his  life  for 
the  near  presence  of  his  God.  And  what  is  God's  latest  answer  to 
man's  cry  for  union  with  the  Author  of  his  being  ?  It  is  the  insti- 
tution of  the  ever-adorable  sacrament  of  love.  This  is  God's 
chosen  answer,  and  therefore  it  is  the  best  regarding  the  condition 
of  man. 

Again,  the  blessed  Eucharist  is  the  most  perfect  answer,  because 
it  is  the  most  loving.  And  why  the  most  loving  ?  Because  God 
chose  it,  and  God  chooses  what  is  the  most  loving,  because  He  is  the 
all-loving  God.  It  is  true  that  God  loved  us  before  we  were  born — 
yea,  even  from  all  eternity.  It  is  true,  He  loved  us  so  ardently  as  to 
lift  us  out  of  nothing,  and  give  us  gifts  of  soul  and  sense  of  beauty  and 
of  woi:th.  It  is  again  true,  He  loved  us  with  such  burning  intensity 
as  to  robe  Himself  in  our  frail  flesh,  carry  on  His  blessed  and  bleed- 
ing back  the  cruel  cross,  and  then  wash  away  all  our  scurvy  sins  in 
the  laver  of  His  life's  blood.  But  He  shall  do  even  greater  than  this. 
The  climax  of  His  love  is  not  reached  here.  He  could  have,  had  He 
so  willed,  pardoned  the  sinful  soul,  without  showering  upon  it  un- 
told blessings.  This  might  be  the  measure  of  mercy,  but  it  would 
not  be  the  limit  of  love.  And  so.  He  not  only  wipes  away  the  stain 
of  sin  from  the  seared  soul,  but  bathes  its  wounds  in  the  balsam  of 
benediction,  and  binds  it  to  His  tender  heart  by  the  unbreakable 
bonds  of  grace  and  love. 

The  Blessed  Sacrament  is  the  perfect  answer  of  the  Creator  to  the 
creature's  cry  for  the  divine  presence,  because  it  produces  the  high- 
est union  between  God  and  man.  Among  rational  creatures  union 
cannot  be  forced;  it  must  be  free,  for  a  forced  union  is  nothing  but 
disunion.  Union  must  be  desired,  and  the  degree  of  the  desire  is 
the  measure  of  the  union.  In  the  Holy  Eucharist  God's  great  con- 
descension is  proof  of  His  all-consuming  desire.  If  He  humbled 
Himself  to  such  depths  as  to  descend  from  His  abode  of  bliss  and 


68T 

assume  the  flesh  of  a  spotless  Virgin,  what  infinite  abasement  it  was 
for  a  God  of  sanctity  to  yield  Himself  to  be  the  meat  and  drink  of 
our  poor,  sordid,  sin-steeped  souls !  Ah !  that  we  might  dive  into 
the  depths  of  that  divine  desire  which  leaped  to  His  lips  on  the  night 
that  He  so  longingly  declared:  "Desiderio  desideravi."  And  O! 
that  we  could  feel  the  yearnings  of  His  spirit  when,  outstretched 
upon  the  cross,  and  like  to  die.  He  cried  aloud,  Sitio  !  For  what  did 
He,  the  God-man,  thirst  ?  For  water  ?  No,  my  friends;  for  one 
thing  only  did  He  thirst;  His  was  an  unslakable  thirst  for  souls — 
for  union  with  the  souls  of  men.  Need  we  more  proof  of  His  hun- 
gering desire  ?  Look  at  His  lowly  life  in  the  tabernacle  of  our 
temples.  Behold  what  abandonment  He  bears  from  the  coldness  of 
His  children !  The  victim  of  neglect,  there  He  lives  the  live-long 
day,  and  through  aU  the  weary  watches  of  the  night,  and  none  so 
poor  to  do  Him  reverence.  Scorned  by  those  He  loves;  grieved  to 
the  soul's  core  by  the  ingratitude  of  those  enriched  with  all  the 
wealth  of  His  graces.  He  yet  tarries  through  the  time,  suffering, 
hungering,  desiring,  and  unceasingly  yearning  for  men  to  come  and 
dwell  in  the  house  of  the  living  God.  Such  is  the  desire  of  the 
Saviour  for  human  souls.  But  since  union  is  between  two,  the  de- 
sire of  one  suffices  not.  WeU,  then,  my  friends,  in  the  Blessed  Sac- 
rament, despite  the  indifference  of  many,  our  desire  for  God  is 
deeper  and  stronger  than  it  was  before  the  advent  of  our  Saviour. 
In  the  early  days,  before  Christ's  coming,  it  was  only  a  kind  of  nat- 
ural desire,  such  as  men  could  have  with  a  vague  and  imperfect 
knowledge  of  God.  While  Jesus  walked  the  earth,  the  desire  was 
hardly  stronger,  for  outside  the  handful  of  believers,  His  divinity  was 
not  even  dimly  discerned.  But  when  His  Godhead  shone  forth  in 
the  resurrection  and  ascension,  then  the  full  tide  of  our  affections 
swept  out  towards  Jesus,  the  Son  of  God  and  the  Son  of  Man.  Now 
we  know  that  the  sweet  "  Man  of  Sorrows"  is  the  Son  of  God,  and 
our  love  is  more  soft  and  tender,  because  it  is  no  longer  the  mingled 
love  and  fear  of  the  great  unseen  God,  but  it  is  the  earnest,  con- 
fiding outflow  of  the  human  heart  for  a  meek  and  gentle  Jesus,  who 
in  all  things  became  like  us,  that  we  might  become  like  Him,  Now 
that  natural  desire  becomes  supernatural,  for  all  selfishness  must  be 
eliminated,  when  we  behold  what  He,  in  His  great  mercy  and  hu- 
mility, has  done  for  our  special  account.     Shall  we  not  love  Him  for 


688 

His  own  dear  sake,  who  has  done  such  things  for  our  sake  ?     How 
can  we  be  so  selfish  with  an  unselfish  God  ? 

Again,  this  union  is  of  the  most  intimate  character,  because  it  is  a 
union  of  divine  grace;  it  is  the  union  of  unions.  Close,  indeed,  is 
the  union  of  thought  and  feeling,  when  mind  meets  mind  in  exact 
accord,  and  heart  throbs  unto  heart  in  friendship's  kindling  flame. 
Close,  too,  is  the  union  of  blood  and  kinship,  and  what  force  shall 
break  the  bond  that  knits  the  mother  to  the  offspring  of  her  being  ? 
This  love  is  stronger  far  than  death,  which  it  even  dares  to  brave. 
But  stronger  and  more  perfect  is  the  union  of  Christ  Jesus  and  the 
sinless  soul  in  the  sacrament  of  love.  Each  sacrament  has  its  pe- 
culiar grace,  and  the  peculiar  grace  of  the  Blessed  Sacrament  is  the 
grace  of  union  with  God.  In  other  sacraments  we  get  this  or  that 
special  grace,  according  to  the  end  for  which  Christ  instituted  each 
particular  sacrament,  but  in  the  Eucharist  we  get  God  Himself,  the 
fountain  of  all  grace,  and  hence  it  is  the  highest  possible  union  be- 
tween God  and  man,  in  one  sense,  even,  above  the  hypostatic  union 
and  the  union  of  the  divine  maternity,  for  the  first  related  to  our 
common  humanity,  and  the  second  to  an  individual  soul.  But  the 
Blessed  Eucharist  is  the  complement  and  the  fulfihment  of  all  that 
went  before,  for,  as  the  Fathers  say,  it  is  a  sort  of  Incarnation  for 
each  and  every  one  of  us.  Hence,  it  is  a  more  perfect  union,  a  more 
perfect  expression  of  God's  answer  to  man's  cry  for  union  with  his 
Maker;  for,  after  all,  the  final  purpose  in  the  plan  of  salvation,  is,  not 
human  nature  in  common,  but  each  and  every  individual  soul.  The 
union  of  the  Blessed  Sacrament,  then,  is  a  union  of  gi-ace,  but  more 
perfect  than  all  former  unions  by  grace,  for  it  is  the  grace  of  actual 
love.  The  effect  of  sanctifying  grace  is,  we  know,  to  make  the  soul 
worthy  of  the  love  of  its  Creator;  but  to  be  love-worthy  and  to  be 
actually  loved  are  things  widely  apart.  But  the  grace  of  the  Holy 
Eucharist  is  the  grace  of  actual  love;  it  unites  to  God,  and  it  unites 
us  to  Him  by  the  force  of  mutual  love  bursting  out  into  an  actual 
flame.  The  Blessed  Sacrament,  then,  is  a  sacrament  of  love;  its 
union  is  a  union  of  love,  and  its  union  of  love  is  the  ver/  climax  of 
closeness  between  God  and  man. 

Besides,  dear  friends,  this  union  of  the  Blessed  Sacrament  is  God's 
best  answer  to  man's  cry  for  the  positive  presence  of  God,  be- 
cause we  are  sensible  of  it  to  a  wonderfid  degree.     We  have  a  clear 


consciousness  of  it  in  one  sense,  although'  it  Jis  a  mystery  of  holy 
faith.  In  former  days  men  saw  God  as  He  gleamed  foi-th  in  the 
grandeur  of  the  tempest,  in  the  sigh  of  the  zephyr;  they  beheld  Him  as 
He  was  revealed  in  His  wonderful  works,  or  as  He  voiced  Himself  by 
the  mouth  of  His  messengers.  We  felt  Him  from  afar,  but  in  no 
special  spot,  for  He  was  everywhere.  But  now  we  can  see  Him  in 
the  contracted  compass  of  the  Sacred  Host.  So  palpable,  so  tan- 
gible is  He  become,  that  we  can  say:  "Behold  now  He  is  right  here; 
see  in  this  Uttle  spot  is  the  great  God  of  glory;  look,  as  He  descends 
from  on  high  to  take  up  His  home  in  the  Holy  Host,  myriads  of  angels 
environ  Him,  and  now  they  bow  down  about  the  altar  in  silent  ado- 
ration of  the  almighty  Power  that  made  them."  Nor  is  this  all. 
We  can  now  take  upon  our  tongue  the  consecrated,  God-animated 
host,  and  then  proclaim  the  wondrous  truth:  "  See,  God  dwells  within 
my  soul.  Yes,  Jesus  Christ,  our  Saviour,  His  humanity.  His  divinity, 
the  Holy  Trinity  and  the  eternal  Godhead  are  now  abiding  in  my 
breast."  Now  God  is  the  food  of  my  soul,  the  principle  of  my  Hfe, 
my  everything  and  all.  Ah !  who  can  muster  terms  to  tell  the  union 
between  me  and  my  God !  It  is  a  union  that  defies  description.  It 
is  a  real,  local,  sensible  union.  It  is  a  union  of  grace,  a  union  of 
love,  a  union  of  life.  He  is  my  food  and  drink.  Transimus  in  id 
quod  comedimus.  We  become  that  which  we  eat.  Food  becomes 
our  life;  it  goes  to  the  brain  by  which  we  think;  to  the  heart  by 
which  we  love;  to  the  blood  by  which  we  Hve.  And  Christ  Jesas  is 
my  food.  He  is,  then,  my  hfe,  not  indeed  in  the  carnal  sense,  as  the 
Jews  believed,  when  they  said,  "  How  can  this  man  give  us  his  flesh 
to  eat  ?  "  But  in  the  sense  which  He  Himself  averred,  when  He  de- 
clared to  mankind,  "  He  that  eateth  Me,  the  same  shall  live  by  Me." 
Now,  my  friends,  we  have  speculated  much,  but  what  shall  we 
point  out  for  practice  ?  We  have  seen  that  man's  life  is  a  constant 
cry  for  the  presence  of  his  God.      Do  you  not  feel  this^day  by  day  ? 

"  There  is  a  mystery  in  human  hearts, 
And  though  we  be  encircled  by  a  host 
Of  those  who  love  us  well,  and  are  beloved; 
To  every  one  of  us,  from  time  to  time, 
There  comes  a  sense  of  utter  loneliness. 
Our  dearest  friend  is  stranger  to  our  joy, 
And  cannot  realize  our  bitterness. 
44 


690 


*  There  is  not  one  who  really  understands,' 
Not  one  to  enter  unto  all  I  feel; 

Such  is  the  cry  of  each  of  us  in  turn, 

*  We  wander  in  a  solitary  way.' 

No  matter  what  or  where  our  life  may  be. 

Each  heart,  mysterious  even  to  itself, 

Must  live  its  inner  life  of  solitude. 

And  would  you  know  the  reason  why  this  is  ? 

It  is  because  the  Lord  desires  our  love; 

In  every  heart  He  wishes  to  be  first. 

He,  therefore,  keeps  the  secret  key  Himself, 

To  open  all  its  chambers,  and  to  bless. 

With  perfect  sympathy  and  holy  peace, 

Each  solitary  soul  which  comes  to  Him. 

So  when  we  feel  this  loneliness,  it  is 

The  voice  of  Jesus  saying,  *  Come  to  Me '; 

And  every  time  we  are  not  understood, 

It  is  a  call  to  us  to  come  again; 

For  Christ  alone  can  satisfy  the  soul. 

And  those  who  walk  with  Him,  from  day  to  day, 

Can  never  have  a  solitary  way. 

And  when  beneath  some  heavy  cross  you  faint, 

And  say,  '  I  cannot  bear  the  load  alone,' 

You  say  the  truth.     Christ  made  it  purposely 

So  heavy  that  you  must  return  to  Him. 

The  bitter  grief,  which  no  one  understands, 

Conveys  a  secret  message  from  the  King, 

Entreating  you  to  come  to  Him  again. 

The  '  Man  of  Sorrows '  understands  it  well,  j 

In  all  points  tempted,  He  can  feel  with  you. 

You  cannot  come  too  often,  or  too  near. 

The  Son  of  God  is  infinite  in  grace. 

His  presence  satisfies  the  longings  of  the  soul, 

And  those  who  walk  with  Him  from  day  to  day, 

Can  never  have  a  '  solitary  way.' " 


Yes,  man  craves  the  company  of  his  Creator,  and  God  has  always 
answered  this  demand  according  to  the  needs  of  man;  and  as  the 
last,  perfect,  and  complete  response  to  the  longings  of  mankind,  He 
institutes  the  sublime  Sacrament  of  the  Altar,  and  gives  Himself  to 
us  to  be  our  food  and  life. 

What  follows  ?     Ihe  conclusion  is  quite  plain. 


691 

Can, you  live  without  God  ?  If,  which  God  forbid,  you  think  you 
•can,  then  go,  you  have  no  place  in  the  house  of  God.  If  not,  how- 
ever, if  you  must  lean  for  your  life  on  God,  behold  here  is  the  foun- 
tain of  life,  come  and  lave  in  its  life-giving  waters.  Yes,  here  is 
the  bread  of  life,  the  food  of  angels,  that  came  down  from  heaven, 
even  as  the  manna  came  down  to  soothe  the  hunger  of  the  Israel- 
ites of  old.  "Ecce  panis  Angelorum,"  behold  the  bread  of  angels, 
it  disdains  not  to  descend  into  the  mouths  of  men,  and  will  ye — O ! 
ye  of  little  faith — why  will  you  not  haste  to  be  filled  with  this  God- 
given  food  for  famished  souls !  Behold,  here  is  Jesus  Christ  sigh- 
ing and  yearning  for  souls  to  come  to  this  blessed  banquet  of 
supernal  love;  and  shall  you  spurn  the  tender  invitation?  "Come 
to  Me,  all  ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  refresh 
you."  "  If  to-day  you  hear  that  voice  harden  not  your  hearts,"  but 
come  at  once  and  open  quickly  the  door  of  your  souls  and  let  Jesus 
in  to  abide  with  you  forever.  Repent  now  your  past  folly  and  neg- 
lect, and  Jesus  will  clasp  you  to  His  breast,  and  the  tear  of  trouble 
He  will  wipe  from  your  weeping  eyes,  and  He  will  bind  up  all  your 
bruises,  and  the  oil  of  gladness  pour  in  upon  your  soul;  and  when 
the  curtain  of  death  shall  close  around  your  last  earthly  act,  and 
when  for  the  last  time  your  eye  feasts  on  the  great  God  of  glory 
coming  to  possess  your  soul  in  the  Viaticum,  you  will  calmly  close 
your  eyes  in  the  last  sleep  of  earthly  existence,  but  in  the  bright 
morning  of  eternit}'^  you  will  awaken  to  an  everlasting  life  in  the 
bosom  of  your  Father  and  your  God. 

Come,  ye  whose  spirits  droop,  whose  souls  are  sorrowful  and  sad, 
whose  pathway  is  dark  and  dreary,  and  whose  burden  is  hard  to  bear 
— come,  for  it  is  you  that  the  Comforter  calls  to  the  banqueting- 
board,  where  the  great  God  of  love  feedeth  the  poor  and  the  little 
ones  and  giveth  good  things  to  His  children.  Is  your  present  life 
faded,  worn  and  insipid  to  you  ?  come  and  Jesus  will  take  it  and 
give  you  another  lovely  in  devotion  to  duty,  in  sharing  the  burdens 
of  others  and  bearing  those  of  your  own,  in  its  knight-eiTantry  for 
right  and  truth  in  the  world.  Is  it  stained  with  sin  ?  come  and 
Jesus  will  give  you  a  clean  and  a  pure  life — pure  as  the  falling  snow, 
immaculate  as  the  birth  of  dawn,  and  radiant  as  the  light  that  shines 
upon  the  golden  shores  of  Paradise.  Is  it  weak,  decrepit,  and  spent 
^ith  the  carking  cares  of  life  ?  come,  and  Jesus  will  give  a  new  and 


692 

fresh  life,  as  if  you  were  bom  over,  a  little  child  again.  Is  it  racked 
with  pain  and  suffering,  borne  down  by  crosses  and  wet  with  tears  ? 
come,  oh !  come,  and  Jesus  will  give  you  a  perennial  life,  where  is 
no  more  pain,  nor  sorrow,  no  crying,  nor  tears,  because  in  that 
blessed  land  these  former  things  are  passed  away  forever.  "  He  that 
eateth  My  flesh  and  drinketh  My  blood  hath  eternal  life,  and  I  will 
raise  him  up  on  the  last  day." 


IX. 

ST.  FRANCIS  OF  ASSISI. 

DELIVERED   AT   ST.   MARY'S   HOSPITAL,   HOBOKEN,   N.   J. 

We  celebrate  to-day  the  feast  of  the  patronal  saint  of  the  heroic 
-women  who  conduct  this  institution  of  mercy,  the  illustrious  St. 
Francis  of  Assisi; — a  man  whose  followers  are  multiplied  with  the 
advance  of  centuries;  a  man  whose  memory  shall  never  grow  old,  but 
shall  be  held  in  love  and  veneration  by  all  who  esteem  purity  of 
-character,  sanctity  of  life,  and  exalted  devotion  to  the  cause  of 
humanity  as  long  as  the  record  of  a  sublime  life  can  evoke  the  ad- 
miration of  mankind. 

God  is  wonderful  in  His  works,  and  He  is  "  wonderful  in  His 
;saints."  The  splendor  of  His  power  shines  forth  in  every  part  of 
creation,  for  the  same  hand  that  decks  the  hly  with  its  lustre,  gilds 
the  summer  cloud  with  glory.  His  majesty  bursts  forth  in  the  rushing 
tempest,  gleams  in  the  lurid  lightning,  speaks  in  the  rolling  thunder; 
His  benignity  breathes  in  the  tenderness  of  twilight,  in  the  rosy 
•calm  of  morning-tide  and  in  the  genial  glow  of  day.  The  flowers 
are  redolent  of  His  beauty;  the  harvests  are  laden  with  His  bounty; 
the  stars  sparkle  with  His  reflected  splendor,  and  earth,  air,  sea,  and 
;sky  are  bathed  in  His  light. 

But  God  is  still  more  wonderful  in  His  saints;  for  by  the  opera- 
tion of  His  unseen  grace  upon  their  souls;  by  the  magnificence  of 
the  miracles  which  He  has  wrought  at  their  hands;  by  the  super- 
human virtues  with  which  He  has  adorned  their  character  and  glori- 
fied their  lives,  and  by  the  lofty  example  which,  through  His  faith- 
ful servants,  He  has  presented  to  mankind,  He  exhibits  His  power 
in  far  more  excellent  degree,  because  the  moral  immeasurably  trans- 
.cends  the  material  creation,  and  the  order  of  grace  the  order  of 


694 

nature.  The  creation  of  the  universe  is  the  work  of  God's  finger;:, 
but  in  creating  a  saint  He  exerts  the  might  of  His  right  arm.  "  To 
me,  O  God,"  says  the  Psalmist,  "Thy  friends  are  exceedingly 
honorable;  their  principality  is  exceedingly  strengthened;  their 
numbers  surpass  the  sands  of  the  sea." 

Of  one  of  God's  chosen  favorites,  I  am  to  speak  to-day.  He  was 
an  extraordinary  man,  called  up  by  God  to  meet  an  extraordinary 
emergency.  To  carry  out  the  purposes  which  high  heaven  had  set 
for  him  was  the  ruling,  the  sole  ambition  of  his  life;  and  with  such 
signal  success  did  he  fulfill  his  mission  that  he  left  an  impress  upon 
the  world  as  ineffaceable  as  time  itself. 

One  period  of  the  world's  history  is  called  the  "  dark  ages "  by 
those  who  are  in  the  dark  about  them.  If  with  impartiality  and 
candor  we  examine  into  the  character  of  those  ages,  we  shall  not 
fail  to  discover  that  they  were  in  reality  among  the  most  remarkable- 
in  human  history;  for  though  in  some  respects  deficient  in  those 
shining  monuments  of  material  progress  which  strike  the  senses 
rather  than  the  heart,  they  were  nevertheless  rendered  glorious  by 
their  conquests  over  the  corruptions  of  vice  and  the  sway  of  evil' 
passions,  and  by  their  singular  fidelity  to  the  dictates  of  humanity 
and  the  laws  of  Christian  charity,  which  are  the  only  lasting  founda- 
tions of  the  peace  and  happiness  of  mankind. 

In  this  period  it  was  that  the  great  moral  hero  whose  memory  we 
honor  stepped  forth  upon  the  theatre  of  events.  He  was  a  man 
with  an  idea,  and  an  enthusiastic  devotion  to  that  idea.  The  pivotal' 
purpose  of  his  life  was  to  realize  the  idea  which  glowed  in  his  soul' 
like  a  flame  of  heavenly  fire. 

The  religious  sentiment  was  strongly  rooted  in  the  minds  of  men' 
when  St.  Francis  stood  forth  among  them,  but  it  was  mingled  with 
much  selfishness,  much  grossness,  and  much  triviality.  In  such  a 
state  of  society  religion  readily  degenerates  into  superstition,  inane 
speculation,  or  mere  pomp  and  external  show,  which  is  no  better 
than  Pharisaism.  Men  must  be  guided  by  correct  principles  and 
sound  doctrines,  and  must  by  the  fire  of  example  be  made  to  burn 
to  behold  infinite  truth  and  beauty.  "  I  have  come  to  cast  fire  upon 
the  earth,  and  what  do  I  wish  but  that  it  be  enkindled."  Christian- 
ity's best  exponents  are  the  saints  of  God.  Nations  and  individuals 
do  not  live  on  bread  alone — they  live  on  ideas,  maxims,  deeds,  con- 


Yerted  into  spiritual  aliment  by  the  grace  of  God.  The  order  of 
ideas  always  precedes  the  order  of  events,  and  hence  instruction 
comes  before  action.  But  example  is  the  most  powerful  preacher. 
St.  Francis  essayed,  not  merely  to  enhghten  the  minds  of  men  by 
furnishing  them  with  pure  religious  principles,  but  especially  to 
move  their  hearts  by  the  incomparable  example  of  a  perfect  realiza- 
tion of  those  principles  in  his  own  sanctified  life.  Like  his  divine 
Master,  he  could  say  with  the  force  of  truth:  *' Follow  me."  The 
lesson  of  a  life  was  the  need  of  his  age,  as  it  is  of  all  ages.  Christ 
began  to  practice  ere  He  began  to  teach.  In  St.  Francis'  day,  as  in 
our  day,  faith  was  dull,  hope  was  faint,  charity  was  cold.  Faith  had 
to  be  re-enkindled,  and  men  made  to  understand  that  the  rewards 
in  store  for  the  good  were  grand  beyond  all  conception,  and  the 
punishments  reserved  for  the  impious  terrible  beyond  description. 
Hope  had  to  be  revived,  and  men  made  to  feel  that  the  sufferings  of 
Christ  upon  the  cross  opened  the  doors  of  Paradise  to  all  who  choose 
to  follow  the  strait  and  rugged  path  which  leads  to  the  fountains 
of  felicity.  Charity,  dear,  precious  charity,  the  apple  of  God's  eye, 
had  to  be  infused  into  souls  whence  it  had  departed.  Frozen  hearts 
had  to  be  melted;  tepid  hearts  warmed;  lifeless  and  unsympathetic 
hearts  revivified  and  recalled  to  the  sublime  life  of  unselfish  service 
for  humanity,  to  turn  thereby  the  hollow  mockery  of  philanthropy 
into  a  glorious  and  blessed  reality.  How  was  it  to  be  done  ?  By 
the  irrresistible  power  of  personal  example  and  the  grace  of  Al- 
mighty God.  By  absolute  self-renunciation  and  complete  self-efface- 
ment; by  the  faith,  the  fasts,  the  night- watchings,  the  deep  sorrow, 
the  continued  prayer,  the  poverty,  and  the  asceticism  of  that  meek 
Master  whom  Francis  followed  and  loved  with  the  ardor  of  an  infatu- 
ated lover  and  the  devotion  of  a  seraph.  All  the  raptures  of  mystic 
devotion,  the  lights  of  interior  illumination,  the  fires  of  self-abnega- 
tion were  concentrated  in  him,  as  in  a  focus.  He  lived  in  a  luminous 
atmosphere,  of  which  Jesus,  his  God  and  his  all,  was  the  effulgent 
and  ever-gleaming  star.  Jesus  was  with  him  everywhere — in  the 
groves,  the  pastures,  the  hiUs  and  the  lakes  of  his  native  land;  but 
more  especially  in  that  inner  sphere,  the  kingdom  of  the  heart, 
where  his  spirit  held  constant  communion  with  the  Spirit  of  Eternal 
Life;  and  thus  beholding  God  in  himself  and  himself  in  God,  he 
could  indeed  cry  oat,  "  My  God  and  my  all."     He  lived  in  a  material 


696 

body,  it  is  true;  but  his  leart  and  mind  were  ever  in  a  sphere  be- 
yond the  dark  shadows  of  this  sad,  fallen  world,  the  kingdom  of 
God's  unspeakable  peacj  and  love.     He  dwelt  in  one  world,  but  he 
lived  in  another,  and  v^nile  he  wrought  in  the  one,  he  worked  for 
the  other.     Hence  he  vi  is  not  solicitous  about  temporal  needs.     He 
was  not  intent  upon  what  he  would  eat,  or  what  he  would  wear,  for  he 
reposed  on  the  bosom  of  the  paternal  Spirit  of  God,  sharing  of  food 
the  worldly-minded  know  not  of,  and  drinking  of  a  fountain  which 
was  fed  by  the  very  life  of  God.     Even  in  the  material  nature  around 
he  seemed  to  behold  onlj  the  spirit  of  goodness  and  love.    The  birds 
came  and  perched  upon  his  hand  and  sweetly  sang  to  him  their 
blithesome  lays,  and  the  doves,  true  types  of  his  own  gentleness, 
cooed  round  his  house  the  whole  day  long,  and  feasted  in  fearless 
glee  beside  his  table,  and  stopped  to  listen  to  the  accents  of  his 
tongue  in  mute  wonderment.     The  outer  world  was  to  him  an  ever- 
present  providence  upon  which  he  could  depend  for  all  his  human 
needs.     And  he  gazed  upon  the  fields  and  flowers,  the  flocks  and 
the  herds  with  seer-like  vision,  and  gathered  from  them   lessons 
which  the  carnal  and  high-minded  could  never  know.    The  invisible 
he  made  visible  in  himself  while  he  lived  and  walked  upon  the 
earth,  and  now  that  he  is  invisible  and  gone,  and  we  would  fain  be- 
hold his  face  once  more,  but  cannot,  we  are  consoled  and  strength- 
ened by  the  story  of  his  life, — nay,  enriched  by   the  legacy  he  has 
left  us  of  sweet,  uncomplaining  service  for  our  fellow-men,  childlike, 
simple,  steadfast  trust  in  Providence,  which  is  the  only  solid  and 
substantial  world  of  comfort,  hope,  and  blessing,  in  this  empty  world 
of  change  and  show  and  vanity.     Yet  men  called  him  a  madman; 
they  would  esteem  him  a  crank  to-day.     It  is  ever  so  with  a  hard, 
uncaring  world;  cold,  suspicious,  and  jealous  of  those  who  mount 
above  their  fellow-mortals,  even  to  do  them  a  godly  and  necessary- 
service.     Even  when  he  sought  the  sanction  of  the  Pope  for  the  new 
order  he  designed  to   found,  the    Supreme   Pontiff   turned   away 
abruptly,  and  the  commission  of  cardinals  who  considered  his  claims 
regarded  him  as  a  visionary  and  a  day-dreamer,  and  his  scheme  of 
living  on  nothing  but  Providence  and  air,  as  vain  and  impracticable. 
But  the  supreme  necessity  of  life  is  frequently  misunderstood.     Ab- 
solute self-surrender  into  the  hands  of  God  has  not  always  been 
comprehended  even  by  the  greatest  apostles  of  asceticism.     Perfect 


697 

security  of  physical  support  is  not  the  paramount  necessity  of  Ufe. 
That  necessity  is  strict  conformity  to  the  highest  and  purest  aspira- 
tions of  the  spirit  within,  ruled  by  the  Spirit  of  God.  That  is  the 
supreme  and  all-important  secret  of  true  life.  The  food  that  a  man 
may  eat  is  of  small  account,  and  he  that  sacrifices  his  hope,  his  aim, 
his  high  ideal  to  his  bread,  may  find,  when  too  late,  tbat  man  does 
not  Hve  by  bread  alone.  Few,  truly  faithful  in  heart  and  conscience 
to  God,  die  for  want  of  bread;  if  Providence  permits  poverty.  Provi- 
dence provides  for  it.  But  many  who  spend  their  lives  in  earning 
and  storing  up  the  wherewithal  of  this  world  die  in  hunger  and 
thirst  which  no  human  possessions  can  ever  quench.  The  Providence 
that  pervades  all  things  vouchsafes  to  the  discerning  mind  of  the 
man  of  faith  the  true  means  of  support,  both  for  body  and  soul. 
That  means  is  fuU  recognition  of,  and  unfaltering  trust  in  the  good- 
ness, the  love,  and  bounty  of  the  Creator.  "  Behold  the  lilies  of  the 
field;  they  sow  not,  neither  do  they  spin;  yet  Solomon  in  all  his 
glory  was  not  arrayed  as  one  of  them."  That  is  the  audible  word  that 
proceeds  from  the  mouth  of  the  living  God.  That  is  the  philosophy  of 
faith,  of  spiritual  dependence,  of  self-renunciation.  Therein  lies  the 
force  and  meaning  of  the  prayer — "  Give  us  this  day  our  daily 
bread."  Blessed  is  the  man  who  knows  how  to  pray  that  prayer  and 
live  by  it. 

St.  Francis  was  conscious  of  his  vocation.  He  knew  whom  he 
had  been  called  to  serve.  He  knew  the  wealth  and  munificence  of 
his  heavenly  Father,  and  he  knew  that  faith  whose  power  can  re- 
move mountains.  By  that  faith  he  would  move  the  world.  He 
would  teach  men  the  value  of  rising  above  carnal  necessity.  He 
would  inculcate  detachment  from  the  world  and  from  the  unsatis- 
fying things  of  the  world,  that  men  might  live  with  Christ  in  God. 
He  died  daily  to  himself  that  he  might  live  to  God.  He  showed 
forth  in  his  life  the  beauty  of  holiness  and  truth.  Religion  repre- 
sented in  his  life  a  thing  of  essential  loveliness  which  brightened 
and  elevated  everything  wherewith  it  was  associated,  touching  the 
deepest  chords  of  the  human  heart,  exalting  and  refining  the  mind, 
and  imparting  superhuman  strength  to  the  moral  energies.  The 
mind  which,  like  his,  was  accustomed  to  contemplate  the  Deity  in 
all  His  works  could  not  fail  to  become  elevated  in  tone  and  lofty  in 
purpose;  and  the  heart  which  was  constantly  schooled  in  the  lessons 


698 

of  divine  love  could  not  fail  to  recognize  and  appreciate  whatever 
was  beautiful  or  inspiring  in  the  moral  order. 

St.  Francis  was  born  at  Assisi,  a  town  of  Umbria,  in  Italy,  in  1182. 
His  birthplace,  according  to  some,  was  a  stable  and  his  cradle  a 
bundle  of  straw.  How  like  the  Lord  of  the  universe,  who,  though  a 
king,  had  no  throne  of  sapphires,  no  crown  but  the  crown  of  thorns, 
no  sceptre  but  a  reed,  no  robe  but  a  faded  purple  cloak.  Time  rolls 
on.  The  child  becomes  a  boy;  the  boy  ripens  into  manhood.  The 
allurements  of  flesh  and  blood  appeal  to  his  fervid  fancy,  and  he  at 
first  enters  the  giddy  round  of  dissipation,  but  maintains  unsullied 
his  purity  of  heart.  But  God  sometimes  works  slowly.  The  marble 
block  is  rough  and  unsightly  until  by  repeated  strokes  of  the  chisel 
the  sculptor  gives  it  divine  form  and  beauty. 

* '  Sculptors  of  life  are  we  as  we  stand 

With  our  soul  uncarved  before  us; 
Waiting  the  hour  when,  at  God's  command, 

Our  life-dream  passes  o'er  us. 
If  we  carve  it  then  on  the  yielding  stone. 

With  many  a  sharp  incision. 
Its  heavenly  beauty  shall  be  our  own, 

Our  lives  that  angel  vision." 

A  few  years  pass  along  and  St.  Francis  beholds  that  "  angel  vis- 
ion." Within  a  sacred  fane  a  pale  and  emaciated  figure  kneels  be- 
fore the  altar  at  the  noontide  hour.  His  raiment,  bound  to  his  body 
by  a  leathern  girdle,  is  malformed  and  grotesque.  His  hands,  up- 
lifted in  supplication,  are  seamy  and  rough  and  give  evidence  of 
painful  manual  toil.  He  has  been  making  the  rounds  of  the  city, 
begging  for  his  slender  sustenance.  As  he  moves  along  he  is  made 
the  object  of  the  raillery  and  mockery  of  his  own  brother.  "  Go  ask 
that  man,"  he  says  to  another  scoffer,  "to  sell  you  a  little  of  his 
sweat."  "  I  do  not  choose  to  sell  my  sweat  to  men;  I  can  sell  it  bet- 
ter to  God,"  the  Saint  replies. 

Upon  the  road  appears  a  ghastly,  gruesome  object,  a  fright  to  the 
beholders.  'Tis  a  man  whose  lips  and  face  are  eaten  away  by  a 
hideous  and  repulsive  cancer.  The  observers  turn  away  in  disgust, 
but  Francis  runs  up  and  embraces  the  sufferer,  and  affectionately 
kisses  the  cancerous  face,  which  is  instantly  healed.  Devoted  ser- 
vant of  the  lepers,  he  washes  them,  and  journeys  everywhere  beg- 


ging,  for  the  sweet  charity  of  Christ,  the  means  to  feed  and  support 
them. 

The  mere  sight  of  the  image  of  his  crucified  Redeemer  made  him 
feel  the  sufferings  of  the  poor  with  such  intensity,  that  he  stripped 
himseK  to  clothe  them,  and  often  went  supperless  to  bed  to  save 
them  from  famishing.  Touched  to  the  heart's  core  by  the  spectacle 
of  the  misery  and  distress  about  him,  he  entered  the  chapel  at  the 
hour  of  midnight,  while  others  slept  on  *'  beds  as  soft  as  downy 
pinions  are,"  and  poured  forth  his  tears  till  his  eyes  were  red  with 
weeping  and  his  sobs  and  groans  echoed  far  out  upon  the  night. 

No  power  is  greater  than  that  of  the  Spirit  of  God  acting  upon  a 
sympathetic  soul.  God's  works  are  wonderful  and  magnificent.  He 
breathed,  and  man  became  a  living  soul.  His  Spirit  brooded  over 
the  waters  and  forthwith  they  teemed  with  animation.  As  it  worked 
in  the  creation  of  matter,  so  does  it  operate  in  the  conversion  of 
souls.  Thundering  eloquence  and  personal  magnetism  have  done 
but  little  to  convert  the  world.  The  grace  of  God  alone  can  move 
the  soul.  When  the  heart  is  really  touched,  it  thrills  with  the  vibra- 
tions of  God's  holy  Spirit.  Christ  is  the  power  of  God  unto  salva- 
tion. St.  Francis  had  this  power.  When  he  went  forth  to  preach, 
men  bowed  their  heads;  he  spoke  and  their  hearts  were  thiilled  by 
the  fire  that  glowed  in  the  face  before  them.  Their  souls  burned 
within  them  and  they  were  drawn  by  iiTesistible  impulse  to  follow 
and  to  imitate. 

Thus  Francis  Hved,  spending  himself  for  Christ,  consumed  with 
compassion  for  the  poor,  absorbed  with  meditation  on  the  sufferings 
of  his  Saviour,  till  he  was  so  signally  favored  as  to  have  reproduced 
in  his  person  the  words  of  Christ,  his  God,  to  the  amazement  of  the 
incredulous  and  the  edification  of  the  pious  portion  of  mankind. 

With  no  abatement  to  his  labors,  his  health  gradually  failed,  and 
under  the  most  exquisite  torture  produced  by  the  stigmata,  he  sank 
day  by  day,  constantly  thanking  God  for  the  pains  he  was  permitted 
to  endure.  Just  before  his  death,  he  dictated  his  last  testament  to 
his  religious  brethren,  and  warmly  recommends  to  them  the  observ- 
ance of  the  rule,  respect  for  the  Church  authorities  and  the  practice 
of  mendicancy  as  a  mode  of  livelihood.  The  testament  finished, 
the  Saint  directed  that  a  song  of  thanksgiving,  of  his  own  com- 
position, be  sun^  to  God  for  His  multitudinous  mercies.     He  then 


700 

ordered  that  he  be  laid  upon  the  ground  and  covered  with  an 
old  habit  obtained  from  the  guardian  of  the  community.  In  this 
humble  posture  he  continued  to  exhort  his  disciples  to  patience  and 
the  love  of  God,  and  gave  his  final  blessing  to  all  in  the  following 
moving  words:  "Farewell,  my  children!  Remain  always  in  the  fear 
of  the  Lord./  That  temptation  and  tribulation  which  are  to  come, 
are  now  at  hand,  and  happy  shall  they  be  who  shall  persevere  in  the 
good  they  have  begun.  I  hasten  to  go  to  our  Lord,  to  whose  grace 
I  recommend  you."  Having  caused  the  history  of  our  Lord's  pas- 
sion, from  the  Gospel  of  St.  John,  to  be  read,  he  then  began  to  recite 
the  one  hundred  and  forty-first  Psalm,  "With  my  voice  I  have 
cried  unto  the  Lord."  As  soon  as  he  had  finished  the  last  verse, 
"  Bring  my  soul  out  of  prison,  that  I  may  praise  Thy  name;  the  just 
wait  for  me  till  thou  reward  me,"  he  yielded  up  his  saintly  soul  to 
God  on  the  4th  of  October,  1226,  the  twentieth  after  his  conversion 
and  the  forty-first  of  his  age. 

He  is  gone  from  the  land  of  the  living,  but  his  works  remain  be- 
hind, an  imperishable  monument  of  his  zeal,  his  self-sacrifice,  and 
his  unquenchable  love  of  God.  To  describe  the  institutions  of 
mercy  which  are  the  legitimate  outcome  of  his  labors  would  be  an 
endless  task.  In  cities  and  in  deserts  where  his  followers  have 
passed  along,  within  the  realms  of  faith  and  love  illumined  by  the 
light  of  his  example,  they  have  left  behind  some  memofial  to  show 
that  the  blessed  and  merciful  sons  of  St.  Francis  have  been  there; 
some  monument  vital  in  attesting  the  subtle  action  of  a  loving  heart, 
which  to  a  heedless  observer  may  seem  but  a  broken  trophy  or  a 
rude  wall,  but  which  a  great  soul  would  gaze  upon  with  "  an  eye 
tear-glazed  and  a  heart  on  fire." 

It  is  well  authenticated  that,  at  a  very  early  period  of  his  career, 
St.  Francis  conceived  the  purpose  of  founding  his  order,  whose 
members,  utterly  unselfish  in  life,  should  be  fit  heralds  of  God  and 
mighty  helpers  of  men.  The  absolute  self-renunciation  which  he 
inculcated  shocked  even  the  rigid  standard  of  virtue  in  vogue  in  his 
day,  and  surely  no  man  dared  to  dream  or  foretell  that  the  seraphic 
Saint's  httle  band  of  Brothers  Minor  would  one  day  reach  to  the  ends 
of  the  earth.  Other  orders  may  have  had  more  distinction  in  theo- 
logical lore,  more  renown  in  ruling  the  Church,  more  reverence  for 
their  penitential  austerities;  but  "the  record  of  the  Franciscans  is 


701 

chiefly  a  record  of  lives  and  work,  like  the  life  and  work  of  their  im- 
mortal founder,  of  whom  a  Protestant  biographer  has  gracefully 
written:  *He  thought  little  of  himself,  even  of  his  own  soul  to  be 
saved,  all  his  life.  The  trouble  on  his  mind  was  how  sufficiently  to 
work  for  God  and  to  help  men/  " 

To  this  head  of  helping  men  are  to  be  referred  all  enterprises  of 
discovery  (Christopher  Columbus  was  a  member  of  the  Third  Order), 
all  development  and  civilization  that  has  appeared  in  the  world;  and 
in  all  these,  and  in  many  more  kindred  blessings  than  the  world 
cares  to  consider,  may  be  distinguished  a  powerful  and  beneficent 
influence  dating  back  to  the  days  of  the  seraphic  Saint  of  xissisi. 

For  his  daughters  in  Christ  I  appeal  to  you  this  day.  The  holy 
work  of  their  founder  they  carry  on  among  the  people  of  this  city. 
Their  hands  are  seamed  with  toil,  Uke  his;  their  lives  are  spent  in 
ministering  to  the  same  loathsome  diseases;  their  work  is  equally 
entitled  to  our  admiration.  Workers  for  God,  helpers  of  men  they 
are;  may  it  be  your  privilege  to  have  them  always  among  you,  as  it  is 
your  God-appointed  duty  to  give  them  support  and  encouragement. 


MARY,  OUR  MOTHER. 

PREACHED     AT    A    SODALITY    RECEPTION    IN    ST. 

CATHEDRAL,    NEWARK,    N.    J.,    MAY,    1888. 

"  Behold  my  beloved  speaketh  to  me:  Arise,  make  haste,  my  love,  my  dove, 
my  beautiful  one,  and  come.  For  the  Winter  is  now  past,  and  the  rain  is  over 
and  gone.  The  flowers  have  appeared  in  our  land,  and  the  time  of  the  prun- 
ing is  come;  the  voice  of  the  turtle  is  heard  in  our  land.  The  fig  tree  putteth 
forth  her  green  figs.  The  vines  in  flower  yield  their  sweet  smell.  Arise,  my 
love,  my  beautiful  one,  and  come." — Cant,  op  Cant.  ii.  10. 

The  beautiful  and  impassioned  words  of  the  spotless  spouse  in 
the  Canticles  are  not  misapplied  in  addressing  them  to  you,  my  dear 
young  friends,  as  the  apt  expression  of  the  emotions  that  fill  your 
fervid  souls  on  this  happy  eve  of  Mary's  month.  Between  the  spirit 
of  beauty  in  Nature  and  the  soul  in  man  there  exists  a  lively  sym- 
pathy and  wondrous  harmony.  Man  instinctively  seeks  the  light  and 
loves  the  beautiful.  As  the  flowers  turn  towards  the  sun,  so  does  the 
eye  of  man  turn  towards  what  is  glowing  and  effulgent.  AU  things 
talk  to  him  of  God,  for  the  God  of  Nature  is  the  God  of  man.  And 
Nature  tells  of  God,  both  when  she  wears  the  sullen  frown  of 
"Winter's  desolation,  and  when  her  rosy  face  is  radiant  with  the 
smiles  of  Spring.  As  she  has  her  several  moods,  so  she  has  her  va- 
rious voices,  which  speak  to  the  heart  in  varied  keys  and  tones. 
But  never  does  she  charm  so  tenderly  as  in  the  vernal  month  of  May, 
and  never  does  she  wake  in  the  soul  sentiments  of  devotion  so  tran- 
quil and  so  soothing,  as  when  the  balmy  breath  of  spring  fills  each 
worn  and  weary  spirit  with  the  holy,  calm  delight  of  heavenly  enjoy- 
ment. The  soul  then  seems  to  scale  its  prison  walls  of  clay,  and  be 
transported  beyond  all  of  the  earth,  earthy.     'Tis  then  she  cries  in 


703 

ecstasy:  "I  have  found  him  whom  my  soul  loveth.  I  hold  him,  and 
I  will  not  let  him  go."  Then  she  says  in  exultant  accents:  "I  am 
come  into  my  garden,  O !  my  sister,  O !  my  spouse :  I  have  gathered 
my  myrrh  with  my  aromatical  spices  :  I  have  eaten  my  honeycomb 
with  my  honey:  I  have  drunk  my  wine  with  my  milk:  eat,  01 
friends,  and  drink,  and  be  inebriated,  my  dearly  beloved.  My  be- 
loved to  me,  and  I  to  him  who  feedeth  among  the  lilies.*' 

There  is,  young  friends,  a  peculiar  propriety  in  your  selection  of 
this  opening  of  the  lovely  month  of  May,  or  Month  of  Mary,  as  the 
time  which  is  to  signalize  the  consecration  of  your  young  hearts  to 
the  Virgin  Mother  of  God.  How  hallowed  and  how  gi'acious  is  the 
time !  Hill  and  dale  are  enamelled  with  bright  flowers,  and  robed 
with  richest  verdure.  The  birds  carol  their  sweet  songs  from  every 
bough,  and  the  air  is  filled  with  softest  melody.  All  nature  is  in- 
stinct with  life  and  joy.  In  the  revolutions  of  the  seasons  a  kind  of 
monitory  voice,  which  summons  us  to  reflection,  is  heard  speaking 
to  our  souls,  and  every  rising  sun,  as  it  pursues  its  path  through  the 
heavens,  announces  some  message  to  encourage  us  upon  our  journey, 
or  to  reprove  us  for  our  delay.  When  May  appears,,  and  the  earth 
shoots  forth  her  tender  green,  it  is  a  call  to  religious  duty,  for  the 
gentle  breath  of  heaven  seems  to  fan  the  dying  embers  of  the  faith 
within  us  with  a  paternal  softness,  and  withered  hopes  grow  green 
again.  The  soul  of  man,  naturally  subject  to  external  influence,  drinks 
in  the  holy  inspiration  of  the  season,  and  it  is  upborae  on  the  wings 
of  l(^ing  contemplation  towards  the  skies,  and  even  Nature  herself 
seems  tinged  with  a  supernatural  radiance  Hke  that  which  issues  from 
the  splendor  of  God's  paradise.  In  the  middle  ages,  on  the  first 
morning  in  May,  the  peasant  and  the  king  repaii-ed  together  to  the 
forest,  the  hawthorn  bough  was  cut,  and  amid  great  rejoicing  the  pole 
was  erected  and  the  May-pole  dance  begun.  The  ancient  Romans 
dedicated  the  month  to  their  goddess  Flora,  and  brought  their  floral 
tributes  and  laid  them  on  her  altar.  The  Catholic  child  of  Mary 
dedicates  the  month  to  his  "  love,  his  dove,  his  beautiful  one,"  the 
immaculate  Mother  of  God,  and  he  brings  his  votive  offeiings  to  lay 
them  at  her  feet,  as  he  crowns  her  in  his  heart  the  queen  of  May  and 
the  Queen  of  queens. 

I  give  you  joy  to-night,  then, — bright  joy,  heavenly  joy, — to  you 
who  are  assembled  here  before  our  Lady's  shrine,  to  vow  to  her  un- 


704 

faltering  fealty,  as  long  as  life  shall  last.  To  you,  in  truth,  'tis  given 
to  say:  "  Rejoice  with  me,  all  ye  that  love  the  Lord,  for  when  I  was 
yet  a  child  I  was  pleasing  to  the  Almighty."  As  Solomon  said  of 
wisdom,  so  sing  you  to-night  of  Mary:  "  And  I  preferred  her  before 
kingdoms  and  thrones,  and  esteemed  riches  nothing  in  comparison 
of  her.  Neither  did  I  compare  her  to  any  precious  stones,  for  all 
gold  in  comparison  of  her  is  a  little  sand,  and  silver  in  respect  of 
her  shaU  be  counted  as  clay.  I  loved  her  above  health  and  beauty^ 
and  chose  to  have  her  instead  of  light,  for  her  light  cannot  be  put 
out."  "  Now  all  good  things  came  to  me,  together  with  her  and  in- 
numerable riches,  through  her  hands"  (Wis.  vi.). 

To  animate  your  zeal,  to  inflame  your  love,  to  enliven  your  devo- 
tion in  the  service  of  that  matchless  Mother  and  incomparable  Queen, 
whose  cause  you  have  espoused,  under  whose  banners  you  are  en- 
listed, and  under  the  powerful  protection  of  whose  sweet  and 
venerable  name  you  march  to  the  undefiled  victory  of  God's  sacra- 
mental hosts,  we  shall  lovingly  contemplate  Mary  in  her  own  perfec- 
tions and  in  those  special  relations  which  she  holds  to  Christian 
souls,  and  especially  to  you,  her  own  children,  her  joy  and  her  crown. 

Lift  your  eyes  to  those  everlasting  kingdoms  where  the  saints 
reign  with  Christ,  and  partake  with  Him  the  glory  that  breaks  forth 
in  sublime  splendor  from  the  Godhead.  See  the  omnipotent  Lord 
of  Life  in  those  regions  of  inaccessible  light,  legions  of  angelic 
spirits  round  about  Him,  exhibiting  to  Him  incessantly  the  homage 
of  their  love  and  adoration.  There  are  the  apostles,  the  maityrs, 
the  confessors,  aye,  and  the  white-robed  virgins,  too,  the  glory  of 
God's  countenance  shining  upon  them  forevermore.  The  winter  of 
their  affliction  is  now  past;  eternal  spring  smiles  upon  them.  They 
are  absorbed  in  glory  and  bathed  in  the  lambent  light  of  eternity. 
But  w^ho  is  she  that  "  cometh  forth  as  the  morning  rising,  fair  as 
the  moon,  bright  as  the  sun,  terrible  as  an  army  set  in  array"? 
"  How  beautiful  art  thou,  my  Love,  how  beautiful  art  thou  !  Thy 
eyes  are  as  doves'  eyes,  thy  lips  are  as  scarlet  lace,  and  thy  speech  is 
sweet.  Thy  neck  is  as  the  tower  of  David,  which  is  built  with  bul- 
warks; a  thousand  bucklers  hang  upon  it;  all  the  armor  of  valiant 
men.  Thy  lips  are  as  a  dropping  honeycomb,  honey  and  milk  are 
under  thy  tongue;  and  the  smell  of  thy  garments  is  as  the  smell  of 
frankincense.     Thou  art  all  fair,  O  my  Love,  and  there  is  no  spot  in 


,     705 

thee  !  "  Who,  indeed,  is  she  that  standeth  near  the  throne,  as  once 
she  stood  close  by  the  cross,  "  clothed  with  the  sun,  the  moon  under 
her  feet,"  and  the  twelve-starred  crown  blazing  upon  her  snowy 
brow  ?  Who  is  she  but  the  Mother  of  the  King,  more  honored  by 
Him  than  Bethsabee  was  by  Solomon.  Who  is  she  that  transcends 
by  her  majestic  brilliance  those  myriad  hosts  of  light,  but  the 
purest,  fairest,  brightest  creature  that  ever  issued  from  the  holy 
hand  of  the  Creator.  She  is  the  woman  by  excellence — an  ex- 
cellence which  surpasses  the  highest  ideal  of  human  imagination. 
She  is  the  perfect  type  of  loveliness,  the  mirror  of  true  womanhood, 
the  model  of  all  beauty  in  the  created  order.  She  is  the  Queen  of 
heaven,  and  of  earth  as  well — the  star  of  the  sea,  the  hly  of  the 
valley,  the  cedar  of  Lebanon,  the  rose  without  the  thorn.  She  is 
pure  as  the  crystal  dewdrop  that  rests  upon  the  lily's  spotless 
bosom;  fair  as  the  first  beam  that  blushes  on  the  rosy  cheek  of 
morn;  bright  as  the  white  light  that  sparkles  from  the  eternal 
throne.  She  is  graceful  as  the  fawn,  gentle  as  the  turtle-dove,  mild 
as  the  breath  of  spring-time,  tender  as  love,  and  faithful  unto 
death.  Her  words  are  like  balsam,  dropping  on  the  bleeding  heart 
and  making  it  blossom  with  the  flowers  of  bright  joy.  Her  tears, 
faUing  Hke  pearls  from  Paradise,  enrich  the  finder  beyond  all  the 
rubies  that  rest  in  the  under  world.  Her  voice  is  like  melody  that 
moves  o'er  the  waters,  when  the  pale  stars  shine  upon  the  placid 
deep,  transpoi-ting  the  soul  beyond  the  stormy  sea  of  life  to  a  port 
of  rest  and  salvation.  The  very  thought  of  her  is  sweet  as  the  recol- 
lection of  the  prayers  we  poured  forth  in  life's  morning-time,  when 
kneeling  by  our  mother's  side  we  first  learned  to  lisj^  the  gentle 
name  of  Jesus  and  the  tender  name  of  Mary. 

Behold  the  paragon  of  perfection  to  which  I  point  as  the  object  of 
your  love  and  devotion.  Is  she  not  worthy  of  all  that  you  can  give  ? 
She  is  God's  masterpiece,  for  as  St.  Bonaventure  says,  God  could  have 
created  a  more  beautiful  world,  a  more  magnificent  heaven,  but  He 
could  not  create  a  better  mother  than  the  mother  of  God.  The  singu- 
lar privileges  which  she  enjoyed  from  her  Creator  entitled  her  to  be 
styled  full  of  grace,  and  the  talents  which  she  received  from  God, 
she  improved  with  such  assiduity,  by  her  detachment  from  terrene 
affections,  by  sublime  contemplation  of  eternal  truths,  by  constant 
prayer  and  daily  intercourse  with  her  divine  Son,  Jesus,  that  in  re- 
45 


706      . 

ward  of  her  virtues  slie  has  been  exalted  to  the  most  eminent  de- 
gree of  glory,  and  will,  to  the  end  of  time,  be  called  blessed  by  all 
generations. 

Enrolled  in  Mary's  sodality,  you  can  claim  her  special  protection, 
but  if  so,  you  are  under  particular  obligation  to  render  her  excep- 
tional reverence  and  devotion.  You  are  bound  to  study  and  know 
her,  for  knowledge  is  the  foundation  of  love. 

But  what  relation,  dear  children  of  Mary,  does  the  mother  of  God 
bear  to  you,  her  clients  and  servants?  She  is,  first  of  all,  your 
mother,  because  she  is  the  mother  of  Christ,  and  therefore  your 
mother,  in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord.  O  happy,  thrice  happy,  they  who, 
having  God  for  their  Father,  make  Mary  their  mother. 

**  OhI  mother's  love  of  all  most  dear! 
Love  that  knows  only  how  to  bless! 
The  emblem  given  by  God  to  show 
His  own  infinite  tenderness. 
In  vain  doth  music  chant  thy  praise, 
In  vain  essay  the  sister  arts, 
To  make  thee  visible — no  eye 
May  know  thy  beauty,  save  the  heart's; 
There  lives  thy  portrait,  treasure  fair 
Beyond  our  dreams  of  Eden's  bowers, 
And  tears,  fond,  reverent  tears,  are  still 
The  worthiest  tribute  to  thy  powers." 

My  friends,  if  it  is  your  blessed  boon  to  have  the  mother  of  your 
love  still  abide  with  you,  pour  forth  your  praise  to  God  for  His  most 
gracious  gift.  "  Forget  not,"  as  the  Wise  Man  says,  *'  the  groanings 
of  thy  mother."  Be  loyal,  be  true,  be  faithful  to  your  mother. 
Plant  no  thorn  in  her  pillow  and  write  no  wrinkle  on  her  brow. 
Those  pale,  withered  hands  have  often  soothed  the  hurt  of  tears,  and 
dropped  balm  of  love  into  your  aching  breast.  You  may  wander 
weary  miles,  and  live  till  your  hairs  are  silvered  with  the  frosts  of 
age,  but  you  will  never  meet  an  eye  so  tender,  a  hand  so  gentle,  a 
heart  so  kind  as  hers.  You  will  never  feel  another  love  like  that  she 
lavished  upon  you.  She  taught  your  lisping  tongue  to  speak,  your 
tottering  feet  to  walk,  your  first  ideas  to  sprout,  and  planted  in  the 
virgin  soil  of  your  young  heart  the  tender  shoots  of  virtue,  and 
guided  your  wandering  footsteps  in  the  ways  of  wisdom  and  the 
paths  of  peace. 


707 

But  if  this  be  the  ordinary  mother's  love,  what  is  the  love  of 
Mary  ?  How  can  you  understand  the  intense,  ardent,  yearning  love 
of  the  Mother  of  infinite  tenderness  and  pity  ?  The  special  predilec- 
tion which  she  cherishes  for  you,  her  chosen  children,  is  beyond  the 
limits  of  language  to  express. 

From  the  words  of  St.  John  we  know  that  Mary  is  the  mother  of 
us  all.  "  When  Jesus  saw  His  mother  and  the  disciple  standing, 
whom  He  loved.  He  saith  to  His  Mother:  'Woman,  behold  thy  son.' 
After  that  He  saith  to  the  disciple:  *  Behold  thy  Mother.'  And  from 
that  hour  the  disciple  took  her  to  his  own."  What  a  wealth  of  ten- 
derness breathes  through  that  expression:  "  He  took  her  to  his  own !  " 
As  the  representative  of  the  race,  St.  John  spoke  for  us  all.  We 
have  God  for  our  Father;  Jesus  Christ  is  our  Brother,  and  "from 
that  hour  "  Mary  became  our  Mother.  Mary  is  our  Mother,  because 
she  is  the  Mother  of  Jesus,  and  her  human  is  the  consequence  or 
the  appanage  of  her  divine  maternity.  The  Mother  of  the  Head  must 
be  the  mother  of  the  members,  and  we  are  members  of  Jesus  Christ, 
as  the  Apostle  affirms,  or,  in  the  language  of  Jesus,  "  He  is  the  vine 
and  we  are  the  branches."  She  has  been  made,  says  the  Abbe  Peti- 
talot,  a  participant  of  the  fecundity  of  Christ,  to  give  birth  not  only 
to  Christ,  but  to  all  His  members.  Hence,  as  St,  Bernard  declares, 
God  wishes  her  to  be  the  dispensatrix  of  all  His  favors  and  all  His 
graces.  Her  love  for  us  is  not  less  than  His,  in  one  sense,  for  she 
loves  us  all  in  Him.  She  loves  us  with  a  tireless,  inextinguishable 
love.  As  she  surpasses  all  other  mothers  in  dignity,  nobility,  and 
grace,  so  does  her  love  transcendently  excel  the  love  of  the  dearest 
and  most  affectionate  mothers  upon  earth.  Her  love,  like  the  charity 
of  the  Apostle,  "  is  patient;  is  kind;  itsuffereth  aU  things;  endureth 
all  things,  and  it  never  falleth  away." 

It  is  fadeless  and  imperishable;  boundless  and  illimitable;  deep  as 
the  soundless  sea;  broad  as  the  universe;  strong  as  death,  and 
abiding  as  the  pillars  of  Paradise  and  the  throne  of  God. 

But  as  Jesus  loved  John  above  the  others,  so  does  Mary  love  her 
children  the  best  of  all.  When  Jesus  was  lifted  up  He  drew  all 
things  with  Himself,  and  even  so  does  Mary  draw  you  by  the  mag- 
netic power  of  special  predilection  and  particular  grace.  I  felicitate 
you  who  are  thus  signally  favored.  You  are  enshrined  in  the  core 
of  her  heart.     She  has  taken  you  to  her  own.     She  will  never,  never 


708 

forget  you.  Wherever  you  go,  or  whatever  you  do,  Mary  will  seek 
to  gather  you  under  her  wings,  and  weave  about  you  the  love  of  her 
motherly  heart.  Even  if  you  forsake  her;  if  you  spurn  her  from 
your  side;  if  unmindful  of  the  pledges,  and  false  to  the  promises, 
which  before  this  radiant  shrine  you  make  her  to-night; — even  if, 
which  God  avert,  you  crimson  your  career  with  crime — if  you  eat 
the  bread  of  shame  and  wear  the  livery  of  disgrace,  still  she  will 
only  think  of  you  the  more;  will  call  after  you  entreatingly;  will  pur- 
sue you  lovingly  and  tenderly,  and  will  bring  back  the  poor  lost 
sheep  of  the  sheepfold  to  the  shepherd  of  the  flock,  that  God  may 
call  it,  like  a  wanderer,  home,  and  count  it  among  the  saved  when 
the  tale  is  told  for  the  last  time,  and  the  number  made  full  for 
eternity. 


XL 

FIRST  SUIS^DAY  OF  LENT. 

PEEACHED   AT  ST.  J0H:P  * 

"Brethren,  we  exhort  you  that  you  receive  not  the  grace  of  God  in  vain." 
—2  Cor.  vi.  1. 

What  man  does  not  experience  a  feeling  of  profound  sorrow,  as 
lie  ascends  the  highways  of  history  and  views  the  calamities  that 
liave  rained  down  upon  the  devoted  nations  since  human  records 
first  began  ?  Of  the  great  nations  of  antiquity,  whose  praise  once 
filled  the  world,  what  scanty  vestiges  remain.  In  those  oriental 
•countries,  whose  splendor  and  opulence  were  once  the  marvel  of  the 
human  mind,  what  traces  can  the  antiquary  find  at  this  present  hour 
to  indicate  the  extent  of  bygone  glory  ?  Every  remnant  almost  is 
Hotted  out,  and  a  hoary  Sphinx,  an  aged  pyramid,  or  crumbled  and 
dismantled  walls,  alone  remain  to  tell  the  tale  of  former  grandeur 
and  present  desolation.  Behold,  "  all  the  glory  of  the  house  of  Ich- 
abod  hath  departed !  "  In  the  smiling  plains  and  valleys  by  the 
Tigris,  the  Euphrates,  and  the  Nile,  where  the  waving  grain  ripened 
under  the  vitalizing  rays  of  an  eastern  sun,  the  poppy  sheds  its  down, 
and  the  deadly  nightshade  distils  its  odors  over  fields  neglected  and 
untilled.  In  the  courts  of  Solomon,  the  palaces  of  Baltazar,  and 
in  the  gay  mansions  of  Memphis,  where  the  rout  and  revel  re- 
sounded till  the  stars  paled  in  the  midnight  sky,  where  concubine 
and  courtesan  assembled  to  lure  the  infatuated  royal  victim  by  their 
<jharms,  the  sound  of  the  timbrel  has  ceased,  the  lute  and  the  cithara 
are  silent,  and  the  voice  of  the  minstrel  is  no  more.  Where  are 
Tyre  and  Sidon,  those  emporiums  and  granaries  of  the  ancient 
world?  Where  are  Babylon  and  Nineve,  Borne  and  Alexandria, 
those  centres  of  wealth,  culture,  and  power  in  the  golden  era  of  Au- 


710 

gustus,  the  halcyon  period  of  the  Pharaohs,  the  Ptolemies,  and  amid 
the  riotous  luxuriance,  the  pomp  and  pearl  of  the  Assyrian  and  Per- 
sian monarchies?  They  are  long  since  numbered  among  those 
monuments  of  man  which  mark  the  pigmy  character  of  his  works, 
the  fleeting  duration  of  his  most  cherished  and  exalted  efforts.  How 
many  civilizations,  since  the  page  of  time  was  first  unrolled,  have 
sunk  from  sight,  and  lie,  superimposed,  one  upon  the  other,  buried 
in  the  dust ! 

"  Westward,"  says  Berkeley,  "  the  course  of  empire  takes  its  way." 
But  as  it  was  with  the  East,  so,  perhaps,  will  it  be  with  the  West; 
and  were  we  gifted  with  the  power  of  prophecy;  could  we  project 
ourselves  forward,  say,  into  the  three  thousandth  year  of  the 
Christian  era,  we  might  behold  all  the  marvellous  achievements  of 
present  material  progress,  all  the  results  of  art  and  science,  and  all 
the  monuments  of  mind,  one  magnificent  mass  of  ruins,  one  wide 
wilderness  of  desolation,  where  no  sounds  would  be  heard  but  the 
roar  of  the  jackal,  the  hoot  of  the  screech-owl,  or  the  repining  of 
the  wind  through  the  moss-clad  ruins  of  forsaken  temples  and  de- 
serted habitations. 

What  means  this  periodical  decline  of  human  grandeur,  this  ebb 
and  flow  of  the  great  tides  of  civilization  ?  Why  does  history  record 
the  strange  story  of  so  many  states  and  kingdoms,  rising  from  the 
waves  of  obscurity,  sailing  for  a  time  the  sea  of  progress,  and  in  the 
end  engulfed  in  the  waters  of  oblivion  ?  Why  have  mankind  wit- 
nessed so  many  institutions,  springing  from  the  cradle  of  barbarism, 
and  after  a  brief,  butterfly  existence,  dying  on  the  bed  of  luxury  and 
power,  suffocated  by  their  own  prosperity  ?  Why  has  the  whole 
earth  been  covered  with  desolation  at  various  epochs  of  its  extraor- 
dinary history  ?  Why  ?  It  was  because  men  did  not  think  in  their 
hearts.  It  was  because  they  received  the  grace  of  God  in  vain.  It 
was  because  they  preferred  material  prosperity  and  the  things  of 
earth  to  "  the  things  that  are  above  "  and  the  service  of .  their  God, 
for  "virtue  exalteth  a  people,  but  sin  maketh  a  nation  miserable." 
It  was  because  they  wandered  from  the  ways  of  truth.  It  was  be- 
cause they  would  not  recognize  the  necessity  of  religion  and  the 
force  and  morality  of  its  precepts,  and  thus  broke  loose  from  the 
only  restraint  upon  their  passions  and  their  vices.  They  therefore 
perished  in  the  conceit  of  their  understanding  and  in   the  foil}'- 


711 

and  corruption  of  their  hearts.  Nations  are  but  individuals  of 
larger  growth  :  if  these  are  corrupt,  so  are  those;  and  corruption  is 
the  forerunner  of  fatal  disintegration  and  positive  extinction.  But 
contempt  for  God  was  the  cause  of  the  evil  and  the  source  of  their 
misery. 

It  was  because  they  insulted  the  majesty  of  their  Maker,  that  the 
authority  of  their  kings,  laws,  and  governments  were  despised  and 
insulted;  and  disrespect  to  rulers  was  the  seed  of  anarchy  and  social 
disorder,  and  anarchy  carried  dissolution  in  its  train,  and  rulers  and 
ruled,  kings  and  people,  fell  together  and  vanished  forever  from 
human  view.  Thus  it  was  that  calamities  came  upon  them,  and  the 
genius  of  destruction,  rushing  through  the  atmosphere  of  strife, 
scattered  the  ashes  of  chaos  over  the  splendor  of  former  civilization, 
and  overturned  empires  and  kingdoms,  and  to  the  war-wasted 
homes  of  the  millions  came  the  fiend  of  famine  and  pestilence  to 
glut  the  havoc  and  complete  the  extermination.  What  was  this  but 
the  torrent  of  God's  wrath  poured  out  upon  them  for  their  crimes  ? 
What  but  i^e  anger  of  an  enraged  God,  vindicating  the  majesty  of 
His  outraged  laws,  and  chastising  the  unfaithfulness  and  ingratitude 
of  men  ?  "  It  is  the  cup  of  strong  mixture  which  is  in  the  hand  of 
\  the  Lord;  it  shall  be  poured  out  from  one  end  of  the  world  to  the 
other;  all  the  nations  of  the  earth  shall  drink  thereof."  Yes,  they 
shall  drink,  because  of  their  infidelity  towards  Him,  who,  after  He 
had  released  them  by  prodigies  of  His  mercy  from  the  slavery 
of  sin,  was  betrayed  and  dishonored  by  His  unworthy  creatures,  and 
His  long-forbearing  patience  was  worn  out,  as  when  it  repented 
Him  to  have  made  man,  and  He  allowed  them  by  their  own  acts  to 
plunge  into  an  abyss  of  irrecoverable  sorrow,  into  misery  that  shall 
never  end.  Ah  !  if  they  had  only  thought  in  their  hearts,  they  never 
would  have  preferred  the  delusive  glitter  of  earthly  kingdoms  to  the 
glory  of  the  kingdom  of  God;  never  would  have  let  go  an  inherit- 
ance of  heavenly  joy  for  the  fleeting  felicity  of  earthly  things,  and 
would  have  learned  "  to  know  and  see  what  an  evil  and  a  bitter 
thing  it  was  for  them  to  have  abandoned  the  Lord  their  God." 

When  Jesus  had  fasted  forty  days  in  the  desert,  the  tempter  took 
Him  into  a  high  mountain  apart.  After  fruitless  temptations  to  sin 
held  out  by  the  seductions  of  Satan,  Jesus  was  shown  the  kingdoms 
of  the  earth  and  the  glory  thereof,  and  temptingly  offered  to  the  Son 


712 

of  God  were  all  the  vast  dominions  outstretched  at  His  feet  in  ex- 
change for  His  service  and  adoration — "If  falling  down  Thou  wilt 
adore  me."  Jesus  answered  by  Himself  alone.  Neither  the  voice  of 
angels  nor  the  voice  of  God  helped  Him.  His  Father  seems  to 
have  left  Him  to  the  resources  of  His  own  unaided  will.  It  was  a 
trying  moment.  Jesus  could,  had  He  desired,  have  seized  the 
mastery  of  the  whole  world.  He  was  not  unconscious  of  His  power 
to  command,  conquer,  and  reign.  AU  were  willing  to  do  Him  hom- 
age; earth  and  heaven  were  waiting  to  ratify  His  choice.  He  knew 
that  the  world,  which  always  worships  power,  longed  for  a  leader 
with  genius  and  authority  to  lead.  The  ancient  kingdom  of  Israel 
sighed  for  its  former  glory,  and  eagerly  awaited  the  coming  of  a 
king,  the  splendor  of  whose  temporal  sway  would  outrival  the  days 
of  Solomon.  Christ  knew,  moreover,  that  the  world  would  at  once 
recognize  Him,  if  He  would  only  recognize  it  in  His  plan  of  empire. 
It  was  a  dazzling  prospect;  a  weak  soul  would  have  been  staggered. 
But  Jesus  knew  whom  He  was  called  to  serve.  "  My  kingdom  is 
not  of  this  world."  Under  the  guise  of  earthly  domin*ion.  He  saw 
Satan  soliciting  Him  to  divide  His  loyalty  to  God,  and  He  swelled 
with  anger  and  was  pierced  with  pain  at  the  bare  suggestion  of 
yielding  service  to  any  one  but  His  eternal  Father,  and  then,  from 
the  unfathomable  depths  of  a  divine  scorn.  He  uttered  those  fiery 
words  of  rebuke  and  repudiation:  "  Get  thee  behind  Me,  Satan;  for 
it  is  written,  *  The  Lord,  thy  God,  shalt  thou  adore  and  Him  only 
shalt  thou  serve.' "  And  forthwith  the  inexpressible  presence  of  His 
Father's  tenderness  consoled  Him,  and  the  divine  grace  encircled 
Him,  and  the  tempter  having  fled  in  confusion,  the  angels  came  and 
ministered  to  Him. 

To  console  and  strengthen  us,  brethren,  in  the  dark  hour  of 
temptation,  when  the  soul  is  like  to  fail  and  sink  under  the  stress 
which  the  enemy  puts  upon  it,  Jesus  also  was  tempted.  He  was 
tempted  once,  and  He  conquered;  we  are  tempted  many  times,  and, 
alas !  many  times  we  fall.  But  although  man's  life,  as  Job  says,  is  a 
warfare  upon  earth,  the  severest  trial  of  virtue  is  the  temptation  of 
worldly  dominion.  Dazzled  by  the  flattering  jirospects  which  ambi- 
tion spreads  before  them,  thousands  seek  and  find  such  ascendency, 
but  to  their  own  perdition ;  many  others  seek  for  it  in  vain,  and 
under  the  chill  of  disappointment,  they  pine,  despond,  and  sink  from 


713 

human  sight.  When  men  view  the  shining  crown  of  success  of 
which  they  hope  to  make  themselves  the  masters;  when  from  the 
*'  high  mountain  "  of  impetuous  desire  they  behold  the  gilded  allure- 
ments of  the  world  beckoning  them  on  to  lay  hold  of  the  coveted 
prize;  when  the  fair  realms  of  supreme  sovereignty  are  invitingly 
spread  before  the  eye  of  aspiration,  the  choice  between  the  worldly 
and  the  spiritual  kingdom  often  trembles  in  the  balance,  the  eternal 
distinction  between  the  goods  of  soul  and  the  goods  of  sense  is  for- 
gotten, and  the  world-worshipping  multitude,  instead  of  spuming 
the  delusions  of  Satan  with  Christ's  fiery  contempt,  fall  down  and 
adore  the  Prince  of  Darkness,  and  call  down  eternal  ruin  upon  their 
souls.  "He  that  is  not  with  Me  is  against  Me,  and  He  that  gather- 
eth  not  with  Me,  scattereth,"  says  Jesus  Christ.  How  many,  dearest 
brethren,  when  the  choice  is  before  them ;  when  the  supreme  hour  is 
come  for  them  to  say  whether  they  are  of  Christ  or  of  His  enemy,  seek 
to  divide  their  loyalty  and  serve  both  "  God  and  Mammon  "  !  How 
many  assume  an  attitude  of  deference,  adopt  a  spirit  of  compromise, 
yield  a  tacit  submission  with  reference  to  the  demands  of  the  world, 
and  how  many  falter  and  hesitate,  when  hesitation  means  irreparable 
loss  and  changeless  misery  ! 

For  it  must  not  be  supposed  that  temporal  scourges  are  the  sole, 
or  the  most  rigorous,  punishments  which  God  inflicts  upon  those 
who  thus  basely  abandon  Him.  Ah!  no,  in  the  armory  of  His 
wrath  are  stored  up  shafts  of  vengeance  incomparably  more  terrible. 
Eternal  punishment  is  the  doom  of  the  impenitent.  They  that  serve 
the  world  shall  share  its  merited  chastisement.  "  Woe  to  the  world," 
says  Christ,  and  to  you  if  you  worship  the  world.  "  Begone,  I  know 
ye  not  whence  you  are,"  He  shall  say  on  that  direful  day,  when 
with  guilt's  shivering  conviction  upon  their  souls,  they  shall  crouch 
and  cower  and  call  upon  the  rocks  and  the  mountains  to  hide  them 
from  the  frown  of  the  Judge  upon  the  blazing  throne.  But  "  His 
hand  shall  be  lifted  over  them,"  because  they  "  exasperated  His 
Spirit";  and  "destruction  shall  be  multiplied  among  them"  be- 
cause they  "  served  their  idols  "  and  "  provoked  Him  with  their  in- 
ventions"; and  "their  seed  shall  be  cast  down"  and  "a  flame  shall 
be  kindled  in  their  congregation  "  because  "  they  murmured  in  their 
tents  and  hearkened  not  unto  the  voice  of  the  Lord";  and  because 
"  they  forgot  the  God  who  saved  them  "  they  shall  be  cast  out  into 


714 

that  "  exterior  darkness,"  where  they  shall  eternally  weep,  eternally 
burn,  and  gnash  their  teeth  in  despair. 

Your  conscience,  my  brethren,  has  long  ago  informed  you  of  these 
things,  and  informed  you  more  forcibly  than  words  of  mine  can  do, 
of  the  judgments  that  lie  in  wait  for  the  wicked  when  the  cup  of 
their  crimes  shall  be  filled  up  and  the  Lord  shall  visit  them  in  His 
anger;  but,  perhaps,  you  seek  to  stupefy  that  conscience  while  you 
hasten  on  to  meet  the  fearful  fate  which  shall  infallibly  overtake 
them  that  work  iniquity  and  take  counsel  of  the'  ungodly.  At  this 
particular  moment,  perhaps,  you  are  blindly,  madly  rushing  on;  and 
you  stand  on  the  brink  of  the  precipice  of  perdition,  and  it  is  to  un- 
deceive you  of  your  folly  that  I  raise  my  voice  with  stem  and  solemn 
warning  in  this  time  of  repentance  and  expiation.  "  Serve  ye  the  Lord 
with  fear  and  rejoice  unto  Him  with  trembling.  Embrace  disci- 
pline, lest  at  any  time  the  Lord  be  angry,  and  you  perish  from  the 
just  way.  When  His  wrath  shall  be  kindled  in  a  short  time,  blessed 
are  all  they  that  trust  in  Him." 

All  you  who  are  in  sin  hear  now  the  call  to  repentance.  For  the 
days  are  short,  and  the  "  time  must  be  redeemed  "  before  the  day  of 
redemption  shall  have  departed  forever.  Delay  not  too  long; 
"  procrastination  is  the  thief  of  time,"  and  if  you  postpone  repent- 
ance till  the  end  is  come,  and  death  stands  at  the  door,  how  poign- 
ant will  be  your  regret,  how  bitter  and,  alas !  how  sadly  unavailing 
will  be  your  sorrow.  You  who  are  in  sin  are  the  objects  of  the 
sleepless  vigilance  and  unwearied  solicitude  of  the  Church,  your  holy 
mother.  Listen  to  her  voice  to-day.  She  weeps  strong,  saving,, 
prayerful  tears  that  all  those  her  children  who  are  lying  dead  upon 
the  cold,  dreary  bed  of  worldliness  and  sin  may  rise  and  come  to 
life  again.  To-day  she  excites  the  zeal  and  charity  of  her  ministers, 
that,  while  they  call  to  you  with  the  sweet  compassion  of  a  tender 
Jesus,  they  may  likewise  exhibit  to  your  view  the  naked,  the  awful 
truth  concerning  God's  justice  when  poured  out  upon  iniquity,  and 
thus  arouse  you  from  the  lethargy  and  fatal  supineness  of  sin,  that 
you  may  stand  before  your  conscience  and  your  God  with  the 
lamp  of  eternity  in  your  hands  to  search  the  recesses  of  your  hearts 
and  discover  the  drift  of  your  affections  in  their  bearing  on  your 
eternal  destiny.  Ah !  the  Church  knows  full  well  the  sloth  and  tor- 
por of  the  heart  in  the  affair  of  salvation;  she  knows  the  feebleness 


715 

of  human  resolution  and  the  incompetence  of  human  endeavor;  she 
knows,  too,  that  tepidity  and  inertness  are  often  the  result  of 
thoughtless  inattention,  and  hence  at  this  season  of  salvation  she 
exerts  all  her  energies  and  bends  all  her  efforts  to  the  work  of  your 
awakening;  she  furnishes  the  means  of  conversion  and  reconcilia- 
tion, she  selects  this  time  of  Lent  to  caU  you  with  earnest  and 
pathetic  voice  to  the  salutary  labor  of  recollection,  of  fasting  and  of 
prayer.  With  the  Psalmist  she  cries  aloud  in  the  name  of  each  of 
her  children:  "Turn  to  me,  O  Lord!  and  deliver  my  soul:  O!  save 
me  for  Thy  mercy's  sake.  For  there  is  no  one  in  death  that  is  mind- 
ful of  Thee,  and  who  shall  confess  to  Thee  in  hell  ?  " 

And  what  happiness  it  would  be  for  me,  my  brethren,  and  what 
consolation  for  every  minister  of  Christ,  if  they  might  succeed  in 
drawing  you  away  from  that  vortex  of  worldly  engagements  in 
which  you  are  now  plunged — from  the  cares  and  the  anxieties, 
the  amusements  and  vanities,  the  absorbing  and  deadly  customs 
and  fashions  of  an  unwise  and  self-seeking  world,  and  conducting 
you  to  that  interior  solitude,  the  kingdom  of  your  soul,  where 
your  God  reigns  alone,  where  the  Hght  of  divine  grace  may  shine 
upon  you  to  dissipate  your  illusions  and  make  you  see  where, 
and  where  alone,  your  true  interests,  salvation,  eternity,  and  God 
may  be  found  and  secured.  This  is  the  all-compelling  purpose 
which  I  set  before  my  mind  and  yours  on  this  first  Sunday  of  Lent. 
Language  I  cannot  muster  sufficiently  strong  to  impress  you  with  a 
sense  of  the  indispensable  necessity  of  reflecting  upon  your  eternal 
interests  at  this  hour,  nor  to  arouse  you  to  a  realization  of  the  appo- 
siteness  of  the  present  opportunity  to  discharge  so  paramount  a 
duty  as  that  which  is  interwoven  with  the  purpose  of  your  creation, 
your  existence  in  this  world  and  your  joy  or  misery  through  the 
ever-rolling  years  of  God.  But  who  am  I  that  I  should  wield  the 
thunders  of  the  Almighty  and  denounce  His  judgments  upon  men  ? 
How  shall  I  rebuke  the  sinner  for  his  misdeeds,  when  I  ought  to 
feel  abashed  at  the  remembrance  of  my  own  barren  and  profitless 
past,  and  overwhelmed  with  the  burden  of  my  own  infirmities  ?  I 
address  myself  to  a  task  that  staggers  my  strength  and  confounds 
my  incompetency.  When  Jeremias  was  commanded  to  speak  in 
Thy  name,  O  God,  Thy  judgments  to  the  house  of  Israel,  the  holy 
prophet  cried  aloud:  Ah!  ah!  ah!  I  cannot  speak.  Lord  God,  for  I 


716 

am  a  child.  How  then  shall  I  rebuke  the  impious  and  turn  the 
hard  of  heart,  that,  forsaking  the  error  of  their  ways,  they  may  be 
converted  to  their  Lord  and  God?  But  ''Thou,  O  Lord,  shalt 
open  my  lips  and  my  tongue  shall  declare  Thy  praise."  Not  by  the 
persuasive  words  of  human  wisdom,  but  by  the  omnipotent  power  of 
Thy  grace  do  I  seek  to  lift  up  the  fallen,  to  call  in  the  strayed  and 
gather  in  them  that  were  lost.  Vouchsafe  to  grant  that  they  may  hear 
my  voice,  speedily  repent,  and  find  mercy  and  salvation  in  the  sight 
of  their  Kedeemer  and  their  God,  for  there  is  no  God  but  Thee,  O ! 
God  of  the  living,  O !  Joy  of  the  Elect.  Purify,  I  pray  Thee,  their 
heaiis  and  mine;  blot  out  every  stain  of  defilement  that  sullies  our 
souls;  "cleanse  us  from  our  iniquities,  and  we  shall  be  cleansed; 
wash  us  and  we  shall  be  made  whiter  than  snow.'*  This,  O  God, 
is  the  present  purpose  of  our  hearts.  Ratify  it  by  Thy  holy  grace. 
We  want  to  repent  and  serve  Thee  better  now  and  all  the  days  of 
our  lives. 

And  you,  my  brethren,  be  vigilant  and  watch,  for  your  "  adver- 
sary, like  a  roaring  lion,  seeketh  whom  he  may  devour "  and  bear 
away  to  that  land  "  where  no  order  but  everlasting  horror  dwelleth," 
the  land  of  eternal  night  and  death.  Now  is  the  day  of  salvation. 
These  are  the  days  when  the  Lord  God  doth  visit  His  people. 
Know,  then,  the  time  of  your  visitation,  lest  the  curse  of  destruc- 
tion descend  upon  you  as  once  upon  Jerusalem,  and  you  be  beaten 
flat  to  the  earth  and  laid  away  as  sheep  in  hell.  Know,  then,  the 
day  of  repentance  and  mercy,  which  is  the  time  to  work,  for  that  day 
may  soon  come — come  as  the  wind  and  the  lightning — when  time 
for  you  shall  be  no  more:  then  shall  the  summer  be  ended,  the 
harvest  gathered  in,  and  the  winter  at  hand — but  your  souls  shall  not 
be  saved. 


